Page 39 of The Tallest Tower (Underbelly Enchanted)

I need to escape his stare. I need privacy, and a room to pass out in. Alone.

“Come back here and eat your dinner, woman!”

“Shove it up your ass.” I stumble into the hall and press my hand to the wall for balance, then I work my way in the direction of the front of the house.

I could escape if Ireallywanted to. I could go home. Curl up and die.

“CeCe!”

Bile rises in my throat, burning my esophagus and making itimpossible for me to shout back something vile. Instead, I focus all my energy on reaching the stairs. On turning left and starting upward, though my heart yearns to go out the front door.

As I ascend, my vision darkens, sending panic lancing through my veins.

But it’s too late.I’ve already been here too long.

“Darling!” Felix singsongs, like this is all a joke to him. “How much do you want your steak to bleed?”

10

FELIX

THE OTHER WOMAN IN MY LIFE

Ifinish making dinner while Christabelle throws her tantrum. Her Sensitive Girl, ‘don’t talk about my life, but I’ll talk about yours’ attitude. Her ‘I destroy lives with the shit I write, but you’re not allowed to destroy lives with the things you sell’ elitism. I only let her out of my sight because I know she isn’t leaving this house.

When I’m done cooking our steaks, I take both off the heat, and place them on a plate to rest. I prepare our salad, haphazardly tossing everything into a bowl with zero finesse, then I remove two wine glasses from the cabinet and set them on the counter.

Red meat means red wine. And since I enjoy planning ahead, I grab the bottle of merlot I already selected for tonight and removed the cork from an hour ago.

Letting itbreatheand all that shit.

A song plays in the back of my mind while I half-fill our wineglasses, the music humming in my throat until it escapes my lips on a gentle, barely-there sound. I finish pouring, set the bottle aside, then I grip both glasses and head out of the kitchen.

“CeCe?”

I snicker, knowing she hates the name already. My ability to annoythe woman who has targeted my brothers is far more appealing to me than slitting her throat and removing her ability to speak at all.

I stalk through the hall and keep an eye on the front door, but when I glance through the window and find one of my men with his back to me and his eyes on the driveway, his normal post, I deem my home safe.

My life, protected… even without Micah on the premises.

Turning and heading up the stairs, I hold the stems of both glasses in one hand and skip every other step, my eagerness to lay eyes on the beautiful Ms. Cannon exceeding my hunger for the steak I’ve prepared and left downstairs.

“Christabelle? Why are you so sensitive about your mom? It’s not like your dad murdered her.” Yeah. I know. A therapist would have a field day exploring my fucked up mind. “Right?”

I move from one flight to the next and keep going. Faster, faster.

“CeCe?Didyour dad murder your mom? Because if he did, we could bond over that. My dad was a prick, too. Though, I have to admit…” I reach my floor, move from the stairs to hallway, and make my way toward the partially cracked bedroom door. “I never would’ve guessed your pops was capable. Dude seems pretty upper crust, ya know? He murders trees, not women. And now that you’re grown, he doesn’t even do that. You get to be the face of theCannon Dailywhile he sails off into retirement.”

I reach the door and consider stopping. Knocking. Giving the woman privacy.

But fuck, it’s not like she didn’t hear me coming, so I push through, prepared to perhaps catch her base-jumping off my balcony, or catch her clawed hands swinging around to tear the skin from my face.

Instead, what I find is completely unexpected.

Pure.

I stop on the threshold and tilt my head to the side, studying Christabelle as she lies curled up on my bed. My shirt dwarfs her small body, and her legs are tucked to her chest so her underwear—myunderwear—shows off the perfect slopes of an ass clearly toned on the StairMaster 5000 three days a week.

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