Page 79 of The Tallest Tower (Underbelly Enchanted)

“He ran. He left New York and went to Copeland on his own.” Then he coughs out an almost-silent laugh. “Brave little fucker. He didn’t need Malone money. He didn’t need the family. He didn’t need shit. He took off and made a life for himself. Then, a little while later, Tim—my brother—followed. Because no matter what, we have each other’s backs.”

“Tim left you so he could protect Archer?”

He shrugs. “So Archer wouldn’t be alone. So they could shield each other. I told Micah to go, too. But with the first two gone, our father was getting meaner, so Micah stuck. There was no way I could take the baby without Tim setting the world on fire.”

“So you stayed. Two left. Two stayed. And the other was an infant who had no choice.”

“I wasn’t gonna leave him behind, and I wasn’t bringing Arch and Tim back just so we could spread the punishments evenly again.” He wraps his hand around the back of my neck and pulls me down again to rest over his heart. “I let them be for sixteen years. But I took my ass to Copeland this year and dragged my brothers back, because Tim Senior was dying, and I knew New York would rebel and try to punish us for his bullshit before long. “Which is exactly what happened,” he adds as an aside. “Pastore tried to take the city, abducted Micah, tortured him, and challenged us. He’sstillon his bullshit. Which is why Clarke is forced to talk to an empty room for hours, and list all the reasons I’m better than him.”

Pushing up to his elbow, Felix presses me to the mattress and leansover me, setting a sweet kiss on the center of my lips. “So no, I don’t feel bad forbeing meanto Clarke. If you want to lie with dogs and take a mongrel’s word over mine, then you’re gonna catch fleas.”

A knock at the door startles me until I jump in his arms and swing my eyes across the room.

Felix glances that way, too. But much slower. Lazier. “What?”

“Sir, you have a guest.”

I don’t know which man’s voice that is. Which face it belongs to. Which soldier is summoning Felix from our bed. But I do know that my heart thunders in protest.

“It’s Ms. Towers.”

“Oh.” Felix’s closes his eyes and nods. “I’ll see her in a moment. Hold on.”

“Are you serious?” I thrust up from the bed and bound away as Felix’s eyes follow. Snatching up a pair of jeans, I stab my legs into the denim. “You’re lying in bed with me. Naked!” I grab his shirt from the end of the mattress and push my arms through the sleeves. “But you’ll receive another woman. A former lover!”

“My father’s former lover.Non-consensual.” Not nearly as panicked as I am, he sits up and watches me knot the excess fabric of his shirt. “You want to meet her?”

“No!” I stalk toward his closet and search frantically until my focus stops on the drawers on the left.

The top one.

I jerk it open and find my laptop and phone exactly where he said they would be. “If you accept a guest at,” I check the clock on the wall, since my phone is dead, “midnight! A woman, then that’s not a guest stopping by for tea, Felix.” I stride back into his room and seize the only pair of sneakers he gifted me with. “That’s a booty call. And you receiving her means you accept the sex she’s offering.”

Unbothered, he lies back on his bed and chuckles. “Savanah and I don’t fuck.” But then he hardens his voice. “Anymore.”

“You’re a pig.” I flip my laptop open and mash the power button, but it, too, is dead. Slamming it shut again and setting it on the bed, I sit my ass on the edge and pull my sneakers on. “I’m leaving.”

I don’t turn when he reaches out and pokes my ribs.

“You’ve just accepted a fricken booty call, right in front of me!”

“You’re exceptionally fucking dramatic.” He grabs my shoulder and hauls me back so I slam to the mattress with a dull thud, my already messy hair whipping back to cover his legs. “Are you always this jealous, Ms. Cannon? Or is it a post-coital thing?”

“Are you always this loose with your body?” I toss his hand off my shoulder and spring back up to finish my shoes. “Fuck one woman, bring the next one in a minute later.”

“It’s been hours.” He leans closer and fists my chin, tugging me around until our eyes meet. “Jealousy turns me on, Christabelle. So I won’t even pretend to ask you to stop.” Then he kisses me, sliding his tongue forward and seducing my mouth until I groan.

It’s involuntary and horrifying, and yet, pleases the egomaniac immensely.

“You’re coming downstairs to meet my friend.”

“No,” I slap his hand away and lean over the bed to fasten my shoelace. “I’m absolutely not. I’m going home, since you said I’m free to leave whenever I like. I sincerely hope you enjoy your little visit with Ms. Towers.”

He crawls off the end of the bed and snags the pants he long ago tossed aside. Sliding his legs in and fixing the zipper, he grabs a pair of socks, and boots that don’t match his pants in the least. The pants are formal. Part of a suit. His boots, for a worksite. But the odd pairing somehow works on his body.

When I finish with my own shoes and push off the bed, turning toward the door for escape, he only follows me, scooping his arm around mine before I can turn back and grab my things.

Once again, I’m his captive, and my laptop and phone are inaccessible to me.

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