Page 11 of Zach
knows the score, and he’s paid really fucking well for his discretion.
A few hours later, I emerge, slightly mussed, a hell of a lot more relaxed, with lipstick marks on
some very pleasurable places.
She tried to get me to stay. They always do. But I slipped out easily, making noncommittal noises
when she asked about seeing me again. It happens almost every time. Doesn’t matter if she knows the
score or not. By the end of the night, they always want more.
What can I say? I have skills.
And Billions of dollars.
I’m realistic enough to know my money probably has more to do with it. They’re dreaming of the
life I could give them. The exotic vacations and $50,000 purses. If they knew what life with me
would really look like, they wouldn’t be so interested.
I climb into the front of the Escalade, ignoring Luis’s smile. “Home, boss?” he asks.
“Home,” I mutter, propping my elbow on the door and resting back in my seat. It’s late. After two.
The roads are quiet as we make our way to the waterfront and the high rise my brothers and I built.
I’m not sure when that stopped being weird, but somehow, in the last few years, the idea that we built
and still own a big chunk of a high-rise, has become the norm.
Laying in my cot in that group home, rocking Jonas through a meltdown, worrying how the fuck
we were going to make it, I never dared to dream this big. Thank fuck for Ransom. He saw value in
Jonas and drew us into his circle. Fucker was smart enough to realize my brother and I were a
package deal.
I might not have been Ransom’s first pick, but I earned my spot in our family. All nine of us
worked together to build our empire, but Ransom’s vision is the one that got us here. I would lie
down in front of a speeding train if he asked me to. I would for any of my brothers. They gave me the
one thing I needed in life, Jonas’s safety, and in return, I gave them my loyalty.
Jonas and I may be the only blood brothers in the group, but we’re all thicker than blood now.
We’re family.
I SMOOTH MY HAIR IN MY BATHROOM MIRROR ONE LAST TIME, MAKING SURE EVERY STRAND IS EXACTLY
where it should be, then flick off the light and move through my apartment to my front door. I
handpicked everything in here, from the color of the hardwood floors to the luxurious wallpaper.
Everything is expensive as fuck and looks like it belongs in a magazine. Not bad for a poor kid from
