Page 33 of Rival to the Billionaire

My older brother's jaw clenches for a moment, his fingers whitening as he rakes them over his hair. And my suddenly too-hot anger drastically cools at the look of muted pain written on his face.

I drop my almost-empty drink on the bar top. "I—Fuck, I'm sorry, Al. I didn't mean to…"

My brother, who is still fuming, exhales, his face still closed off. "She's safe, Ryder, and she's been doing well in school. And our house is fine. We're fine…okay? I focus on making sure Shelby knows how important she is to me. Because that's what you do with the people who matter most. You make sure they know they matter." Alton stares hard and firm at me, the muscle in his jaw seemingly ready to tighten. "Jenny's been working hard at this company, Ry. And for a while, she was far more serious about her work than the rest of us." He knocks back his champagne before placing the glass on the bar. "When's the last time you gave her any recognition for that?"

He turns and starts walking in the direction of the food, leaving me scrambling.

I absorb his words, not hearing another sound as I watch his thick shoulders weave through the crowd of chattering guests. My chest aches, bad, and I have to suck in deep breaths, trying not to let my emotions catch up to me.

Ever since losing my own place in the world—Mom gone, Dad gone, Alton starting his family with the birth of Shelby, hell, Derek getting engaged and making plans for the wedding—I have spent all of my time, effort, money, and energy on the company and the app, each major announcement and drop of financial data a reminder of how my parents could have been here today, living a full life with a cute-as-a-button granddaughter to visit from time to time.

When the car crash happened, I vowed to never waste another minute living my life.

I wanted it all. And I wanted it now.

Wealth. Women. Travel. Everything, at once, for as long as I could hold on to it.

It's not that I never paid attention to the role that Jenny played in keeping us afloat, though. I have. It's just that caring too much means slowing down, being cautious.

Which means I'm skating the edge and trying not to blow it.

And for the first time in a long time, I'm willing to acknowledge I need help.

I need…

As soon as I dare to think her name, she appears.

Dressed seductively in a red, backless dress that grazes her body, revealing tantalizing flesh, Jenny Forde moves between the gently swaying guests like a glittering ship on a glassy blue ocean—dazzling and capable of making any man's heart turn to shipwreck. A storm.

Almost as if she senses me watching her, she turns in my direction. And I can't help myself. My feet start moving towards her without thought, my chest doing that heavy, tingling thing again.

Seeing her makes me realize the ache in my heart—the desire to clash constantly with her—isn't from the stress of taking on the app project. It's from the way she makes me feel. The way she makes me want.

Want to be better. Sharper. Smarter. More capable.

Most of all, I want her to see my triumph over the odds.

Countless times I've caught myself imagining what that might be like, the moment when she finally admits defeat and warms the cold, aloof shell around her heart.

I notice her talking, laughing softly with some dick in a suit…apparently oblivious to my approach.

Everything around me disappears in a haze with Jenny and I in it, the only thing that matters anymore.

I reach for her waist. And before I know it, I'm whisking her away.

"Ryder," she starts. "You made it. Might I introduce you to?—"

"Later, Forde." I make sure the words are a low growl. "We need to talk. Right now."

ChapterTen

JENNY

I must be high to let Ryder Anderson touch me the way he's doing.

He's dressed in one of his trademark button-down shirts and slacks, his dark hair in messy waves, giving him that sexy slouchy look that completely fails to hide how fit his body is.

Add his signature scruff and growing stubble, and I have to swallow hard in an effort to regain my composure as he grabs me by the hand and drags me away at what feels like a full-tilt run.

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