And then he rises. “Stand up,” he commands to me. “Are you sure—” “I can handle the backlash,” he says, and his eyes briefly flicker to Ryke. I get it. He values his friendship with Ryke this much—that he’s willing to risk criticism or a new headline in the tabloids just to even the playing fields again. “Stand up.” Jesus Christ. I’m going. I’m going. I set Lily on the cushion beside Daisy, and then I rise, facing him, a coffee table separating us.
DAMN. connor is throwing out ORDERS.
