cars, then to me, then flicked back to the cars. “Why so many? You take the limo to work every day.”
I shrugged. “Gotta spend my cash somehow. And now I’ve got you to spoil.” Pulling her into my side, I kissed her temple. “Pick one.”
She walked the line, trailing her fingertips over the hoods of each one. I stood off to one side, watching her with warmth in my heart and a smile on my face. She stopped next to my newest toy, one that had only been delivered a couple of weeks ago.
“What’s this one called?”
“That’s a Bugatti La Voiture Noire. I took delivery of her recently. Haven’t had chance to drive her yet.”
“Her?”
“Of course. She’s beautiful, sleek, and has curves in all the right places.”
She shook her head. “Men and their obsession with cars. I’ve never understood it. Elliot is the same.”
I fetched the keys from the cabinet where they were stored and unlocked the car. “Get in.”
She slipped inside and closed the door. I joined her.
“Wow,” she said, running her hand over the leather. “This must have cost you a fortune.”
“List price is almost thirteen million, but because they’re so rare, I paid twenty.”
She stared at me, mouth agape. “Twenty million dollars?”
“Yes.”
“Oh my god. That’s insane. Don’t you feel guilty when half the world is starving?”
“No. I gave one hundred million dollars to charity this year and I’ll do the same next year and the year after. I’m fully aware of the responsibilities I have, but that doesn’t mean I should feel guilty about spoiling myself. And I don’t.”
“Jesus. Those are some crazy numbers.”
I frowned. “You act as if you’re surprised about how rich we all are. You’re Elliot’s sister. How can you not be clued in?”
She hitched a shoulder. “I’ve never asked or paid attention. It’s not my business. He’s always taken care of me and Mom and Dad, but it’s not like he gives me access to his bank statements, and nor should he.”
“That’s fair, I guess. Well, we are. All of us. It’s no big deal.”
She peered at me. I sensed a deep question brewing.
“Isn’t it strange for you, though? I mean, after growing up with nothing to suddenly have so much of everything?”
I started the engine and drove onto the street, the engine purring beneath the hood. I was already itching to put my foot down, but I’d have to wait until I got out of the city to really open her up. At least the dusting of snow we’d had earlier in the week had melted, and, while freezing, the sky was a deep blue, without a cloud in sight.
“It was at first, of course. But now, I honestly can’t say I think about it. I make sure I enjoy the luxuries money brings, but I equally work hard and set myself challenging goals, otherwise it all becomes a little pointless. The best part for me is being able to take care of Mom. Bringing up a headstrong boy alone when you have to work three jobs just to make ends meet must have been an almost impossible ask, and certainly a thankless task. That’s what brings me the most joy—knowing my mother never has to worry about where the next dime is coming from ever again.”
Athena emitted a soft sigh. “You’re a special kind of man, Ryker Stone. When I have a son, that’s exactly how I want him to turn out.”
I glanced sideways, then turned my attention back to the road. Manhattan streets weren’t the kind you wanted to take your eyes off for too long, and if anyone scratched my new baby, I wouldn’t be held responsible for my actions.
“You want kids?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“How many?” I asked, avoiding her question.
“Four.”
I pulled a face. “That’s a lot of shit and vomit and screaming.”
“And fun, and joy, and something to bring meaning to life.” She giggled. “Have I freaked you out?”
“No,” I said. “It’s not something I’ve ever thought too deeply about, that’s all.”
“I think you’d make a wonderful father.”
An unfamiliar feeling stirred in my chest, one of excitement mingled with alarm. Excitement because I had a future with Athena, even if the idea of kids did scare the shit out of me. But with Athena by my side, we’d muddle through. The alarm part? Elliot. Who else? I wanted it all, but the outcome was out of my hands.
She rested a hand on my thigh. “Ryker, stop stressing. I’m talking years in the future.”
“I’m not stressing,” I said, unwilling to