Page 12 of Money Reigns
“She begged to go again.”
“I’m serious, she’s perfect, War. I don’t need you fucking this one up.”
I chuckle. “You’re so dramatic. I’m not going to touch her.”
Yet.
I already want to touch her in every way that would ruin her.Wesley thinks ‘perfect’means fragile. It meansripe.
He mutters something under his breath. Probably cursing my name. Then storms off back to Olivia’s desk like some righteous office knight.
I wait.
I watch the moment Olivia looks up at him. She smiles.Soft. Grateful.
Then I turn, slow and controlled, and head for the elevator.
I take it up to my floor, the elevator doors open, and the scent of roasted coffee hits me before I even step out.
Broderick’s already there.
He holds out a to-go cup like it’s a peace offering.
“Morning,” he says. “Brought your usual.”
I take the coffee without looking at him.
Of course he brought my usual.
Because that’s Broderick. Fetching, smoothing, smiling. A man who knows how to wag his tail without ever baring teeth.
Always trying to stay one step ahead. Smooth. Polished.Friendly.
I don’t need a friend. I need someone who shuts up and gets the job done. He forgets that sometimes.
“Thanks,” I mutter, heading toward my office, the city skyline stretching wide and glassy beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Broderick follows, talking numbers. Three buildings under contract, one tied up in zoning. I nod when necessary, sip my coffee, let the silence stretch long enough to make him fidget.
“The Parker Estate got another inquiry this morning.”
My gaze cuts to him.
“Who?”
He hesitates. “Korsakov.”
The name crawls under my skin like rot.
“We’re not selling to that asshole.”
“I figured,” he says quickly. “He offered cash, above asking.”
I turn to face him fully.
“I don’t give a damn if he offered a blank check and a bow-wrapped yacht. That property stays off-limits.”
“Got it.”
