Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78438 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
But Carmen was a queen of her own kingdom—a ruler who didn’t need a king.
That made her the sexiest thing in the world—because she didn’t need me for anything.
Her attitude was refreshing because it was real. She said contradictory things all the time, because she was so honest. She hated me at times, but then she wanted to fuck me harder than she ever had before. I could read her thoughts so easily, like I was sitting across from her at a poker match.
I was grateful I’d happened to be passing that alleyway at that very moment.
I hardly walked anywhere, so it almost seemed like fate.
Maybe it was fate.
I arrived at the casino, passed through the quiet floor since it was still too early for anyone to be there. The hardwood floors were sterile because the cleaning crew combed every single inch of the place to make sure a single chip hadn’t landed somewhere it shouldn’t have and everything was accounted for. The cages were empty of the strippers, and the music was off. All the lights were on, so the casino looked totally different from how it did in the evenings.
Ronan’s back was to me as he spoke to a few guys on the security team. He was dressed down in jeans and a long-sleeve shirt since he wouldn’t be there later that evening.
We hadn’t spoken since he’d stormed out of my office, and I knew the silence could last much longer. I approached him from behind, then dismissed the guys with a subtle wave of my hand.
Ronan turned around, knowing I was there because I was the only person who could get rid of five men so quickly. He still wore that pissed-off expression, that serious scowl around his eyebrows. He slid his hands into his pockets and squared his shoulders, tensed for a fight rather than a conversation. He didn’t say anything, waiting for me to state what I wanted first.
I didn’t even know where to begin. I’d never been good at these heart-to-heart conversations. Ronan was more sensitive than I was, slightly jealous that Mom and I had had a stronger connection than they did. I was the one who started this casino, and I was the reason Mom got to stop working as a dishwasher and a bartender. There was silent tension between us, something we’d both ignored for the last five years. “Everything you said was right, Ronan. I’ve never been the same.”
We were the only people on that side of the casino, so no one could overhear us. He stared at me with the same startling blue eyes I possessed, both gifts from our mother. His attitude toward me hadn’t changed at all over the week.
“You never truly appreciate something until it’s gone…” My mom worked hard most of her life to provide for us, and I don’t mean forty hours a week like most people. She worked two jobs and also made a home for us. She developed severe back problems from hunching over a sink for so long, in addition to anxiety and other issues. My biggest regret was she didn’t have more time to enjoy the luxurious life I gave her. She was in her early fifties when she passed away—way too young.
Ronan stared at me, clearly unsure what I meant by that.
“I’ve never gotten over her death, even though it’s been five years. I’m still bitter about it. If she’d gone to the doctor sooner, maybe things would have been different. What happened to her wasn’t fair, that all she ever did in her entire life was work.”
Ronan’s anger started to dim like an extinguishing candle. I never spoke this way, so he knew I was being transparent with him.
“I built a wall between us to mask the pain. I’ve shut down everything so I don’t have to think about it. This numbness has carried over to every other part of my life. I’ve felt dead inside every single day since her funeral.”
He continued to listen.
“You’re right, Ronan. I’m an asshole—but I shouldn’t be an asshole to you.” I held his gaze easily because we were the same height. It was like looking into a younger version of myself. He was two years younger than me, so we were practically the same age.
Ronan crossed his arms over his chest and tilted his gaze toward the floor. He sighed deeply, taking his time as he considered what to say in response. “Honestly, I wasn’t expecting any of that. I figured you would just ignore what I said, and we would move on.”
“How could I ignore that, Ronan?” Was I really that out of touch with reality? Was I really that cold?
He shrugged. “You ignore a lot of things, Bosco. You're alive, but you’re barely living. You control every aspect of everything, and you’re so coldhearted about your decisions because you don’t actually feel anything.”