Page 135 of My Sweet Poison
It wasn’t true, of course. They had a toxic, gloriously fucked-up relationship but it was clear Hailey adored him as much as he doted on her.
When they pulled free, they finally realized other people were in the room.
Hailey gave me a hug and then asked, “Are you ready for the grand opening of Borrowed Time’s new cafe counter?”
Greyson had joined Pierce on the floor. They were in deep discussion over the espresso machine manual.
“Not exactly. Becausesomeonewon’t call a plumber.”
Pierce leapt over the counter and stalked toward me. “That’s right, Mrs. Worthington, and let me tell you why?—”
I shrieked with laughter as I backed up, palms raised. “Pierce! There are people watching!”
He continued pressing forward. “Let them watch.”
He backed me against one of the bookshelves and braced his hands over my head. “The answer is because the love of my life has turned me into a boring, law-abiding citizen who now takes pleasure in a hard day’s labor.”
I bunched his T-shirt in my fist, wrapped my arm around his neck and pulled him in closer. “I hope that’s not the only thing you take pleasure in.”
Pierce reached down, grabbed my hand and pulled me deeper into the stacks as he shouted over his shoulder, “Greyson, call a damn plumber!”
DIAMANTI BILLIONAIRE DYNASTY
BRUTAL HEIR
Book One
Sebastian
The surveillance photos hadn’t done her justice.
In the bitter chill of late October, the wind tore through the piazza, whipping her black hair across her face.
I curled my hand. I could already feel those strands wrapped around my fist.
She was ignorant of the blood-soaked empires her father and I ruled from the shadows, and of the silent war between our families.
Well, if her father wanted to play dirty—wanted to steal the House of Diamanti, my family’s dynasty, out from under me—then so be it.
I’d take his daughter.
From the warm comfort of my Mercedes S-Class's heated leather seats, I watched her undetected.
Sabrina Dolce Badalamenti.
A pretty little pawn in my vengeful game.
The photos hadn’t captured the subtle tilt of her chin, the way her lip caught between her teeth when she was nervous.
She turned in a slow circle, scanning the street signs with visible confusion, then swiped her hand over her hip—reaching for a phone that wasn’t there.
So. She was alone.
In an unfamiliar city.
Lost.
No phone.
