Page 20 of Bought By Santa

I nod slowly, he’s right. Neither of us have any problem killing those who deserve it, but the innocent people living in this building haven’t earned my wrath. With a sigh, I run a hand down my face and pull out my phone.

Marco answers on the first call. “Boss?” he inquires.

“How’s she doing?” I ask. As promised, he’s sent me hourly updates, and both confirmed she was still in bed. I listen intently as he lets me know she’s still asleep. “Good, keep it that way. Look, I’m at her studio now and the place needs to go. Burn it to the fucking ground.”

“Sure thing,” he agrees, as usual, not asking any questions.

“But make sure everyone is evacuated first,” Jack adds. “Anyone with kids can be placed in one of our hotels until you find more permanent solutions.”

I shoot my brother an incredulous look. What the hell is this? Some Hallmark Christmas miracle? Fuck no. Jack arches his eyebrow, silently daring me to contradict him. “Fine. Do it,” I huff.

Without looking back, we walk out to our vehicles, and I quickly throw the bag with Carolina’s few belongings onto the passenger seat. When I close the door, I find Jack studying thestreet. “You know,” he says, pointing to a building further down. “We could get rid of all of it and build some new shit.”

“To what end?” I ask, genuinely curious. “We’re not exactly do-gooders. Besides, the people here aren’t likely to be able to pay the kind of rent we charge.”

Jack scratches the scruff on his chin. “Ruby wants us to do more charity to improve our image. Lately, there hasn’t been enough to offset the negative whispers. If we keep it up, the police can’t keep looking the other way no matter how much we pay them.”

“I get it,” I say. “If we restore the neighborhood, we could run it at a loss to help out.”

“I’ll talk to Ruby,” Jack confirms. “She’d love to get involved.”

He isn’t kidding; this is exactly the kind of thing our sister would get a kick out of. And, honestly, if it gets her away from her creep of a husband for a few hours a day, it’s worth it. “You do that,” I agree.

Turning to face me, Jack pins me with his stare. “You know Dad wasn’t kidding, right? He wants you to produce an heir like last year.”

“I know,” I confirm. “I got it handled.”

He narrows his eyes at me. “So that’s why you’re wearing shining armor?” Jack’s eyes glint with mischief as he leans against my sleek black vehicle, arms folded across his chest.

I glance at him, feeling a surge of possessiveness that’s too intense for the short time I’ve known Carolina. “I am a Knight, after all,” I confirm. “She’s going to give me an heir.”

None of us mention the fact I should make sure I get three, mostly because I don’t believe in the family superstition. The fact that my dad lost his two brothers, that my grandpa lost his two sisters, and that my great-grandpa lost one of each proves nothing.

There’s no such thing as a curse that kills off two of the three children fathered by the Knight Leader. There. Just. Isn’t.

Jack chuckles, shaking his head. “Does she even know about this plan of yours?” Jack arches an eyebrow, the sunlight reflecting in his green eyes.

“She does. I made her an offer too good to refuse.” My hand clenches at my side, the image of her asleep in my bed flashing through my mind. Possession coils tight within me.

He lets out a low whistle and stands up straight. “Damn, you’re serious, aren’t you?” He claps me on the shoulder, his laughter fading. “I hope it works out because I don’t want to have to take over.” His voice becomes solemn, and I know he hates the thought as much as our dad does.

“Don’t worry,” I assure him, pulling him into a hug. “This won’t be your burden. I promise, Jack.”

We say our goodbyes, and I wait in my car, watching him drive away before I check my phone to see if Ruby has answered my text. She has.

Ruby: Are we just going to gloss over the fact you don’t need to know for yourself?

Ruby: Hello?!?!?! Don’t fucking ignore me!

Ruby: Fine, be that way. If it’s someone you actually give a damn about, just buy every product in the shop since you can afford it. Everyone needs a different absorbency.

Ruby: You should also get some chocolate, comfy socks. Maybe a heating pad? Dude, you’re seriously making me go through my own stuff here.

Ruby: Right, okay, even though you’re clearly ignoring me, I’m the best little sister, so here’s your shopping list: every size tampon—branded. No cheap shit. Get the pads with the highest absorbency (indicated by drops on the packaging!!), at least one blanket, some fluffy socks, fluffy pajamas (nothing tight or sexy!), and… whatever you think will make her comfortable.

I roll my eyes as I read the last of my sister’s texts. Just what the actual fuck? This all sounds like shit you’d buy for someone who’s terminal, not someone who has to go through this shit once a month.

My annoyance doesn’t last long, though. It’s nice to see my sister’s personality peek through the words. So much better than the timid version I see when Dad or Michael are around.

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