Princess (Ridgeview Prep, #2) - Londyn Quinn Page 0,82

say with a smile, watching her turn to walk into the building where her first class is being held.

How the fuck could I get so lucky?

We’ve been in Chicago for a year now. Yeah, she has a dorm room at Great Lakes University where she’s going to school for her teaching degree, but she stays with me at my place almost every night. I want her to move in, but our mothers would have a conniption if I didn’t marry her first.

I mean, I already proposed.

Kind of.

Unfortunately, I had to find out about it from Charlotte. I don’t remember it at all because of the drugs the Doc pumped into me before patching up my busted shoulder a year ago.

How fucking romantic is that?

And Vegas?

Jesus.

What the hell kind of drugs were they, anyway?

I want to do it right next time, something neither of us will ever forget.

A smile lifts my lips.

It’s all part of my plan.

But first, I need to secure my place out here. I’ve worked hard to prove myself to Phoenix, and I’m ready to take the next step.

It’s time for me to climb.

The elevator doors open on the sixth floor, and I walk into the foyer of Iaza Capital Management, Phoenix’s investment firm, at eight o’clock sharp. I know my brother has already been here since at least seven, which is why I’m gripping his favorite coffee concoction in my hand. He never stops on his way in. He’s always in too much of a rush to get the day started, so he lets his natural adrenaline kick in until his bitch gets here an hour later with his caffeine.

I’m the bitch.

But it’s all good.

I finally have exactly what I want, a real life where I have control, where I manage myself.

I’m not the math brain of the family and the crap he does with numbers blows me away, but the guy knows how to spot deals and make money.

And after he closes the deals, I run the construction and keep shit in line with the workers. My projects are always done on time, and so what if I use some creative ways to keep them on task?

“Morning, ladies,” I grin at the blondes sitting behind the reception desk and they give me their best come-hither looks in return.

Just like always.

“Morning, Xander!” One of them, Chrissy, jumps out of her chair. “Do you want some coffee?” She must really want me to get a look at her wiggle her body around the place in that tight dress because I am clearly already carrying two cups.

“I’m good. Maybe tomorrow.” I wink at them and continue toward Phoenix’s office. The whole place is an open concept. Below us is the pit, where all of the traders sit and fire off buys and sells all day long. And around the perimeter are glass-enclosed offices where all of the senior managers sit and count their profits.

Phoenix, of course, has the biggest one. It spans half the floor and it’s pretty spartan. He hates clutter, and besides his monitors, laptop, and phone, there isn’t a single piece of paper on his desk.

That’s how Phoenix rolls.

No messes. No trails. No questions.

I see him standing next to the window overlooking Lake Michigan and pull open the door. Early morning sunlight streams through the glass, the shiny surfaces of his desk and polished furniture glinting.

I sink into a chair in front of his desk, unable to keep the smile from spreading across my face as he speaks in hushed tones to whoever is on the other line.

It’s been a year, and I still strut around like I have a new lease on life at the age of nineteen. Chicago took some getting used to. The winters are long and fucking brutal. Part of me wishes Phoenix had chosen to run this company somewhere down south, like Florida. But I have more than enough to keep me warm at night.

Like Charlotte.

The other reason why there’s a permanent smile plastered across my face.

“Wait, so you want me to teach it?” Phoenix says, sweeping a hand through his dark hair and rubbing the back of his neck. He twists around to look at me and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know I am.”

I take a sip of my double espresso, the shit-eating grin still there even though the fiery hot liquid just singed my taste buds.

It doesn’t matter.

I’ve got my girl.

I’ve got my life.

And the future is fucking blinding.

“Okay, I’ll think about it. It’s a big commitment, and I don’t know if I’ll have the time. I have a lot on my plate right now.”

I furrow my brow at Phoenix. Time for what? Whatever it is, he should make the time. As it is, he’s in this office way too much crunching numbers or whatever the hell he does. I’m sure the blondes at the front desk would love it if he threw them a bang.

At the same time.

They look like that type.

“I’ll get back to you next week. Thanks.” He clicks off the phone and lets out a deep sigh.

“What was that all about?” I ask.

“One of my old finance professors at Great Lakes University wants me to cover his class next semester while he goes on a book tour.”

My eyes widen. “What the hell are you gonna teach, The Art of Extortion? Money Laundering 101? How to Create Your Own Drug Trafficking Ring? Sanitizing Crime Scenes?” I chuckle. “Hey, if I could’ve taken classes like that, I might’ve considered going to college.”

“I didn’t say I was going to do it.”

“It would be good for you. Open your eyes to the opposite sex. Maybe a little professor-student role play. Could be kinky, and Christ knows you could use some action. Anything that gets you away from these monitors.”

“I appreciate your interest in my sex life.”

“Oh, so you admit there is one?”

“You’re getting to be a real smart ass, Xander.” He quirks an eyebrow. “And you smile a lot. Anyone ever tell you that?”

“I’ve got a lot to be happy about, like the fact that I get laid multiple times a day. Try it. It might make you smile, too.”

He flips me off and collapses into his chair with the iced caramel macchiato topped with extra whipped cream and caramel drizzle I brought. “That’s great to hear,” he says, taking a long sip. “I’m happy for you guys. How’s Cammy doing these days?”

“Good. She’s coming out here for a visit next month.”

“Is Charlotte going to tell her you guys are living in sin?” he snips.

“Nah, she’s got enough to deal with from the schmucks on the board of Hawthorne Industries. She doesn’t need any more stress. Besides, Char doesn’t stay every night.”

“Oh, right, it’s only the ones that end in -y.” Phoenix grins, the first one I’ve seen in a while. Maybe there’s hope for him after all.

“You might want to consider a more manly coffee drink,” I say, pressing my luck. Phoenix is definitely in a shitty mood, and I’m trying hard to get him to shake off whatever is lurking behind his hard glare. Maybe it’s because I just busted a nut, maybe it’s because I’m happy and I want him to find the same thing. “It’s embarrassing to walk in asking for your frou-frou shit. Can’t you just get a black coffee, for Christ’s sake?”

“You want to find a new job with Jase back in Ridgeview?” Phoenix growls. “Or do you just want to keep getting my macchiatos?”

I put my hand in the air. “Okay, okay. So, what’s up? Is the pole stuck up your ass giving you splinters or something?”

“No,” he grunts. “I’m dealing with something. Something big.”

“Tell me,” I say, leaning forward.

He shakes his head. “It’s too soon. I’m still trying to figure out all of the players. But from what I know, they’re dirty. And goddamn ruthless.”

“Well, then, they’re pretty much fucked, right? Since you’re dirtier and more ruthless than anyone else I know.” I snicker.

He taps his phone screen, his expression darkening. Then he stares out the window again. Phoenix assesses risk for a living and he always knows the right moves to make to close the best deal.

He always wins.

That shouldn’t change just because new players are showing up to play the game.

Right?

He suddenly slams a hand on the top of his desk and I jump, the hot espresso sloshing through the sip hole of my lid. “Sometimes that’s not enough,” he says through gritted teeth. “Especially if money isn’t their goal.”

“Then what is?” I ask, my mouth dry.

Phoenix’s lips stretch into a thin line and he pauses before answering.

“Revenge.”

The End.