Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 482(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Maybe then, I’ll get back the fucking colors I lost.
For now, I need to leave to gather my cards and, most importantly, to keep from doing something I’ll regret later on.
I plaster on my most plastic smile. “It was nice meeting you, Mr. Mori.”
“Please, Akira is fine.” His eyes glint and I want to break his glasses and gouge them the fuck off. “My Naomi’s friends are mine as well.”
My Naomi.
It’s the third time he’s called her that in my presence.
My. Naomi.
I was the one who said that first. How fucking dare he take something of mine and turn it into his?
Burning sparks of hostility rush to the surface in need of release. It’s been a long time since I’ve thought about inflicting violence, but Akira’s prim and proper face seems like the right place to relapse into old habits. Because fuck this guy.
Instead, I nod, my eyes meeting Naomi’s again. She digs her fingers into her husband’s arm for the second time tonight as her dark gaze stays on mine.
Her pupils are slightly dilated, her lips parted, and there’s a pink blush on her cheeks. She probably doesn’t even realize her reaction is visible to me.
Time hasn’t erased what I already know.
“Naomi. Good to see you again.” I take her hand in mine and kiss the back of it. My lips linger on her skin that still smells like lily and peaches. It smells like that fall from seven years ago and its memories.
My eyes never leave hers as my mouth rests on the back of her hand. I want her to see that she made a mistake by coming back.
That I’ll ruin her as much as she ruined me.
Ruined us.
She sucks in a breath through her teeth and her hand slightly trembles in mine.
The message got through. Good.
I release her hand and nod at her husband, who’s been watching us with a critical gaze. “I hope to see you around soon.”
His lips tilt at the side. “Oh, you will.”
I pause at his antagonizing tone, but then I turn around and leave.
An itch starts under my skin. One that urges me to turn and take another look at her, to see the fucker touching her.
But I don’t.
I already got the message through. Now, all I have to do is wait for her to fall into my trap.
Because that’s what Naomi does. She willingly walks over the land, even while knowing it’s full of mines.
I stop by the bar, abandon my untouched glass of champagne, and order a glass of Macallan 18. I ignore the brunette bartender with a lip piercing who’s batting her lashes at me.
As soon as she brings me my order, I take a long gulp. The burn of the alcohol quenches the burn in my chest, but that only lasts for a second before the flames turn hotter.
Daniel slides to the stool beside me and winks at the bartender. “Same as him, love.”
“Right away, handsome. Your accent is so dreamy.”
He shows her his dimples. “You have a good eye and ear.”
She laughs in a flirtatious way and slides his drink over with a napkin beneath it. “Call me sometime if you want to see what else I’m good at.”
“I wouldn’t miss it, love.” He brushes his hand against hers as he takes the drink.
She gives him an apologetic glance when she’s called to the other end of the bar.
“A brunette with curves.” He tilts his head and checks her out. “My fucking type.”
“What are you doing here?” I grumble.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, mate? Beautiful girls are surrounding you from everywhere and you’re sulking like an old cat lady who just heard that the judge won’t allow her cats to inherit her fortune, because her children are countersuing.”
“Then go have fun with all the girls. Why are you stuck with an old cat lady?”
“Hello? Obviously, because I love cats.” He takes a sip of his drink. “Now, back to business. Who was that?”
I stare at the bottom of my glass and how the ice swirls. “Who was who?”
“The one who got your knickers in a twist and gave you cat lady syndrome?”
“Are you stalking me?”
“Nah. Just noticed you were more rigid than usual. Do we need to bring in the big guns for Akira Mori?”
I break eye contact with my drink and face Daniel. “You know him?”
“Of course I do.” He throws up a dismissive hand. “International law, hello? That’s me, by the way.”
“Have you worked with him before?”
“No, but I dealt with an associate in England who did. Eh, you know him actually. Knox’s foster father.”
“Ethan Steel?”
“That’s the one. Knox and I went to Japan a few years back to provide legal advice to his father about signing with Akira’s company. Ethan wanted an extra opinion outside of the law firm that represented him for international affairs, and we were there to serve—and fuck hot ladies, of course.”