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“I can see why you want to marry her.” N chuckles from his place against the wall. I glare at him. “What’s not to love?” King’s tone is nonchalant. Like that’s why we’re getting married. Because he loves me. Not because… I blink some more. I don’t even know why he wants to marry me.
the way the man is looking at me crawls under my skin. King’s large body moves between me and the man. “When the certificate is ready for you to sign, I’ll have someone bring it out to you,” King tells him, sounding calm. “But if you ever look at my wife like that again, I’ll remove your eyeballs from your skull.” He pauses. “Understand?”
I’m almost surprised to hear her ask, “When?” “Last night.” Her eyes move around the room. “How?” The side of my mouth pulls up. “Disgustingly rich, remember?” “Why?” Her voice catches, and I’m already striding across the room, capturing her face in my hands. “Because I can. And because the world needs your art.”
“It’s just Orlando.” “I don’t know Orlando. So I don’t trust Orlando.” I make sure to emphasize his stupid name. “Promise I’m trustworthy.” Orlando tries to smile when I raise my gaze to him. I keep my eyes on his. “I broke the arms of the last man who touched my wife.” Orlando’s eyes widen as his smile falters. And I think he believes me. As he should.
Her shoulders lift. “Not necessary.” Then she pulls one hand out of her pocket, holding a slender pale-pink vibrator. “Oh, and also, just so you know,” her other hand releases the knot holding her robe shut. “I’m already on birth control. Since you brought it up last time.” Then the robe drops, and she stands before me, gloriously naked.
Nero slowly moves his gaze over to meet mine. “You cut his dick off.” My head tips from side to side. “Technically, that’s true. But it wasn’t the plan.” Nero scrunches his nose. “And it smells like sex in here because…?” “Because my wife is cooler than yours.” Nero’s eyes move back to Pony. “I don’t think I want to know.”
“Uh, ew.” I gesture to the body and the growing pool of blood beneath it. “This was after.” Nero turns to head up the stairs. “I don’t want to know.” “Dude.” I follow him up. “It’s not like we fucked on top of Pony.” “I said I don’t—” “We just fucked in front of him.” Nero throws his hands up. “I don’t want to know!”
“Let me guess”—before Nero even starts, I know it’s time for a new best friend—“you’re over there beating yourself up over what happened. And instead of facing the facts head-on and getting the fuck over it, you’re being a drunk dumbass.” He makes a humming sound.