Page 25 of The Contract

Cal’s a great guy, but I’m in no mood for pleasantries today.

God help this poor contract Lucian set up for me.

Only days ago, I called him needing one of his girls for a two-week contract.

My multi-billion-dollar merger is on the line, and the CEO’s wife wants afamily manto take over her husband’s business.

Well… I can’t buy a family, but I can buy a fiancée.

Especially when my good friend owns the world’s most prestigious escort agency.

The Black Ledger

Fifteen minutes later, the elevator doors open, and I’m greeted by The Black Ledger’s marble entrance.

“Welcome to The Ledger, Mr. Wolfe.”

The receptionist is clearly a pro, greeting me by name instead of asking who I am.

Only the best from Lucian.

“Right this way.”

She stands, leading me through a set of heavy, opaque doors where my old friend is already walking toward us.

“Ah, Mr. Vale for you. Enjoy your contract, Mr. Wolfe.”

I nod at her, then give Lucian my best eat-shit expression.

Lucian—tattoos covering his forearms and neck, slate-blue eyes that match his dress shirt, three days’ stubble—looks every part the man who has connections everywhere.

He’s a hard businessman and a damn good friend.

Self-made, just like me.

And we’re both at the top of the pyramid in our respective fields.

“’Bout time, Moody Judy.”

“I’ll throw you out the window of your own high-rise.”

He throws his head back, laughing loudly, drawing a look or two from a few women in red—the signature color of a Black Ledger companion.

“Okay, okay. I’ll stop busting your balls now.” He greets me with a familiar handshake and one-armed hug.

“You’re getting old.”

I gesture to his tight cut.

His salt-and-pepper hair seems to have more salt than pepper these days.

He’s only thirty-eight, six years older than me, but I need something to toss back at him with all the jokes he’s been spouting today.

“Speak for yourself.”

He turns, and I follow him toward his office at the end of the hall.

He holds out a closed folder. “I’ll be young forever.”

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