Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80689 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 403(@200wpm)___ 323(@250wpm)___ 269(@300wpm)
Like so many of the cryptic things he says, it leaves me wondering what the hell he means.
“I don’t want to rush you, Jonas. The pace you’re moving at is fine, but as I mentioned previously, I want him to believe your relationship is real. Meaningful.”
“Yes, I understood that to be the job.”
Simon smiles. “Good. Now I have some stuff to tend to: investments, the trust, business things Ryan doesn’t have any knowledge of.”
Ryan had used those exact words when he spoke about it, and I can tell by how Simon stares into my eyes that he’s not studying me anymore—he’s sending a message: that I should never forget he’s watching and listening.
It fucks with my head. Why say someone else was reviewing that initial footage if he was going to wind up revealing he’s spying on us?
I wait for him to say more, but there’s a buzz. Simon retrieves his cell from his pocket. “Looks like Ryan is finished with the leak, so he’ll be heading over soon.”
Does he have a tracker on his brother? Wouldn’t surprise me if he had security cameras with AI monitoring to alert him when there’s movement anywhere in the house. God only knows the kind of security this guy can afford.
What if Simon is monitoring Ryan in ways Ryan doesn’t know about?
What if he’s heard the conversations we’ve shared in private in the woods?
Fuck.
Simon says, “I hope you both have a good workday…and an even better night.” A sly smirk plays across his lips. He winks, and it feels so calculating, so nefarious—a reminder of the stark contrast between these brothers. Ryan’s abrasiveness can be intimidating, but he has a tenderness to him once he lets his guard down. Simon’s charm is intimidating, and all I see—or all he lets me see—is something sadistic and menacing.
He pushes to his feet. “Finish your breakfast. You need your strength. I’ll swing by like this for updates occasionally, so don’t be surprised when that happens. In the meantime, I’m looking forward to when you’re able to fuck him with his eyes open.”
Why did he want to have this meeting with me?
Maybe he feels I’m not moving fast enough, despite saying the pace is fine.
Maybe he didn’t like Ryan talking to me about him, and this mindfuck is my punishment.
Maybe something we’ve done has given away that Ryan and I have teamed up.
Or maybe—and this wouldn’t be beyond the pale to a guy like Simon—it’s all just a fucking power play to remind me he’s in the dominant position.
12
RYAN
I approach the oaks on the east side of the property. The guys are all in helmets and safety goggles. Morgan holds the bottom of the ladder while Jonas hacks off a slender branch with the handheld chainsaw. Forsyth is supposed to be gathering the branches from the oaks they trimmed earlier, but he’s chatting them up instead. It’s the sort of thing I might give him hell about on another day, but he’s more than earned it with how on top of shit he’s been this week, so I’ll excuse it.
As I draw nearer, I realize I’m tensing my jaw.
It’s been two days since something in Jonas changed. He’s been on edge, agitated…not like himself. I gave him the hand signal for meeting in the woods, but he blew me off, which really messed with my head. I thought he might blow me off at night too, but he showed up both nights and we fucked around—it just wasn’t as hot as always. But not being able to have a conversation with him left me having to make up reasons for the change.
Did Simon find out we’re conspiring against him and confront Jonas? No, surely, if he had, he would have sent Jonas home. Although, if Simon has some fucked-up revenge planned for me, I doubt it was easy to come by a Kieran look-alike. Would he be so quick to throw away his advantage?
“I’d love to go to Chicago,” Forsyth says when I’m just a few yards from the tree. “Go out to bars and clubbing. What would you think of that, Morgan? You could come with me and play wingman.”
Morgan grins, I’m sure because he knows he’d be a shitty wingman.
“Coming down!” Jonas announces, and starts descending the ladder.
“Oh, hey, boss,” Forsyth says. “Just making sure these slackers are working.”
As I snicker at his remark, Jonas glances over his shoulder, and he misses a step. He reacts fast, tossing the chainsaw away from us as he tumbles to the ground, landing on his ass.
“The fuck, Jonas?” I’m at his side in no time, kneeling beside him. “Are you all right? Are you hurt?”
“I’m fine. It was just a little fall.”
I let him take his time before Morgan and I help him to his feet.
“I’m fine,” Jonas insists. “I just tripped.” He wipes at some dirt on his ass.