Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36428 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 182(@200wpm)___ 146(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Remy hums her agreement during the lifting of her own glass of the dark liquor, “I understand that.”
“Da,” the grip I have on her hip protectively tightens, “but you have one husband. She have three.” A mirth-filled grin is attached a slow headshake. “Not same.”
The snicker out of my wife is somewhat stifled by the sip she’s stealing.
Shay drops one hand onto her light pink corset style cocktail dress, “Now, I’ve told you two a story-”
“Was that story?” I playfully counter causing her smirk to deepen.
“Tell me one.” Her focus shifts completely to the woman in my grasp. “Tell me why I sent our children away to play with their cousins for the weekend, took our private plane to this island, got my men dressed in their favorite designer suits, and then dragged them here to indulge in a sin that is not ours.”
There are many, many things not to like about Shay, yet there’s – admittedly – something I’ve always secretly admired.
Something I want.
Covet.
It’s always appeared so easy for her to share.
And I’m not referring to her partners.
I’m talking about her world.
Her Syn isn’t hers. It’s theirs. And for as long as I can recall, it’s always been theirs. They have this single unit mentality that’s so unshakeable that when they enter a situation – whether business or personal – it’s impossible not to notice. Not to feel. One thinks. Another speaks. Whoever is left reenforces. They have this…unbreakable balance, even in the worst situations, that I find myself struggling to believe Remy and I will ever have.
Nonetheless, I won’t stop aiming for that level of harmony.
Connection.
I’ll simply continue to work at it.
Perhaps slyly ask Miko for tips when he’s run out of bacon wrapped asparagus to shove down his throat.
I swear, the man eats like machine.
“Once upon a time,” Remy casually begins between small finger waves to the latest guests that have arrived, “there was a very stupid peasant who believed he could get away with stealing from the queen.”
A theatrical yawn escapes Shay. “Boring.”
Curious about a situation she still hasn’t given me details over in spite of “handling” it first thing Monday morning – along with the agent who abruptly accepted a transfer to Alaska – is what pushes me to ask, “Why?”
“Because that’s one of the oldest, dullest plots in history,” the woman I’m not married to swiftly answers.
“Net, not why boring.” I drop my gaze to Remy. “Why steal?”
“Why do men typically do anything dumb?” Shay snidely interjects.
“Is…love?”
“Pussy,” the two callously answer in unison, only to receive a quick nod of comprehension.
They’re right.
Righter than I wish they were.
“He claims he stole from the queen to whisk away the fair maiden to a new world. One where they could finally be together,” Remy resumes explaining, tone flat and unimpressed.
Shay echoes the same infliction. “I take it said fair maiden was already spoken for?”
“Of course.”
“And was fair maiden’s husband his best friend or brother?”
“Friend.”
Amazed at Shay’s accurate guess has my jaw cracking slightly open.
I probably shouldn’t be shocked at how well they know these things.
They have to.
They’ve always had to.
In order to survive.
Thrive.
And Syndicate is undeniably thriving.
“Double yawn,” Shay says on an eyeroll and sip of champagne. “Thus far this tale is older than time.”
Appalment drips freely in my voice, “How could man call him friend when sleeping with wife?”
“Weren’t you listening?” Teases the Syndicate female not wearing my key around her neck. “This tale is older than time.”
“Yes, but,” Remy impishly interrupts, “the one-eyed man-”
“Why has only one eye?” I nervously ask. “When get only one eye?”
“When the queen gouged it out with her shoe upon finding him,” she nonchalantly replies, receiving a happy chortle from Shay. “The one-eyed man who claims he did all this bullshit for love-”
“Fucking. Yawn. Remy.”
“-was offered a chance to prove said love in front of the queen.”
An intrigued eyebrow lift is delivered by the other woman. “Like…fucking in front of an audience? Because while that is more a tale that should come from my home, it is one that I do occasionally enjoy seeing elsewhere.”
“No,” the mother of my children viciously smirk, “like fighting a beast with his bare hands in front of a roaring crowd.”
The emphasized word clicks everything in place.
Of course.
Of course, I should’ve known that forgiveness for breaking something so sacred wouldn’t be as simple as working overtime to keep her sexually sated. That she would require further redemption.
Atonement in blood.
It’s barbaric and brutal, yet killing for her, proving I am always willing to kill for her, especially when she’s watching, is better than any words I could ever say.
It’s an action.
And actions are always worth the most.
Even coming from her.
This is how I can be of service.
Doing something only I can do.
Thrill finally shoots through Shay’s stare at the same time she gleefully claps against the glass. “Murder is always romantic.”