Page 45 of Money Reigns
“Are youalwaysthis demanding?” Her brow twitches, the corner of her mouth pulling up like she’s deciding whether I’m serious or just an asshole.
“Yes.”
She smirks, but takes another bite. When she swallows, she wipes delicately at her lips with the napkin. Still trying to be so fucking poised.
“There’s a gala next Friday,” I say.
She looks up, surprised. “Like… tuxedos and ballgowns kind of gala?” she asks, her voice light, but I catch the flicker of nerves behind it.
“Yes.”
She tilts her head. “You often go to things like that?”
I lift a brow. “You don’t think I own a tux?”
“I think you’d wear one like it offended you.”
Fair.
Her eyes sparkle with the tease, and suddenly I want to give her every invitation I’ve ever turned down. Just to see what she’d wear. Just to see how she’d look under chandeliers and too much money and the greedy stares of men who’d never deserve her.
“You’re not wrong,” I say slowly. “But this one’s different. It’s at the Halston Estate. Fundraising for the new waterfront development. I’m expected to attend.”
She nods, then glances up. “Who are you bringing?”
A question laced with curiosity,notjealousy.
Which should settle me.
But it doesn’t.
It coils tight, something hungry twisting behind my ribs, ugly and possessive.
“No one.”
Her brow lifts. “That’s strange. Usually you have a model. Or some actress. I’ve seen in the tab—”
She freezes, eyes widening. Her fingers tense around her napkin, twisting the edge like she’s trying to undo the words.
“Not that I’ve… read about you, Mister—Warren. I-I’m sorry.”
I blink once.
Then let it settle.
The implication.
Shewatches.
She reads.
Maybe not religiously.
Maybe not always.
But enough.
Enough to know who I’musuallyseen with.
