Page 35 of Money Reigns
Seattle’s golden boy.
New money. Self-made.
Smug as hell.
I let it ring twice.
Make him wait.
Then I answer.
“Brooks.”
“Beaumont.”
“What do you want?” My tone stays flat. Cold.
“I see you’re still a pretentious prick,” he says, almost amused.
“And you’re still trash that learned how to accessorize,” I fire back without hesitation.
A low exhale hums through the line. Not laughter. Not anger. Just that flicker of temper I was hunting for.
“What do you want?” I repeat, leaning back in my chair, key turning slow between my fingers.
“I need one of your men. For business.”
I laugh once, quiet and sharp. “Let me guess—you want me to hand over one of my men so you can bleed him dry for intel and send him back slower than you found him.”
“If I wanted your intel, I’d already have it,” he replies. Smooth. Controlled. “It’s not exactly locked behind steel. Half the women in your orbit would sell it for a bottle of champagne and a photo op.”
My jaw tightens.
“Wrong assumption,” I say coolly. “You think I’d ever trust a woman with anything that matters?”
“No,” he replies evenly. “I think you don’t trust anyone. That’s the difference between us.”
Silence stretches long. A standoff. Neither of us flinches.
We’re both men used to rooms stilling when we enter them. Both men who don’t blink first.
I tap the key against the desk, slow and deliberate.
Broderick.Loyal to a fault. Always orbiting where he doesn’t belong.
Always too close to things—and people,that don’t belong to him.
“Actually,” I say finally, “I might have someone for you. But what’s in it for me?”
“I’ll owe you,” Brooks says simply. “You’ll have my word.”
His word.The one thing even I can admit he guards like gold.
I like the sound of it.
“Fine. You can have Broderick.”
There’s a sharp laugh on the other end. “The puppy?”
