Survival of the Richest (The Trust Fund Duet 1)

The words echo in the air around us. Looking for Christopher, he says while we stand in Christopher’s empty apartment. “I didn’t know,” I whisper, my throat burning. “I didn’t know that I loved him.”

And how for me to realize it, when there’s no hope of a happy ending. No solace for me now. No permanence in a gilded world.

Sutton gives me a small smile, this one small and true. “Honest,” he says, a little sad. “Honest to a fault.”

It would have been impossible to choose between these two men, but sometimes love doesn’t give you a choice. The heart has its own balance sheet. It makes its own calculations. I’m the last person to find out what it decides.

I leave the cold, sterile apartment alone, walking down concrete steps to a waiting black car. It’s little comfort that I control the trust fund, that I control my own fortune. I’m one of the richest women in the country. In the world. Money can’t buy love or trust or safety. It can’t stop a thousand pounds of forged steel when it’s already swinging toward me. It can’t make the pain disappear.

Thank you for reading SURVIVAL OF THE RICHEST! I hope you loved Harper and Christopher and Sutton. The final book in the Trust Fund duet, THE EVOLUTION OF MAN, releases this summer! Find out which man Harper ends up with…

One-click THE EVOLUTION OF MAN so you don’t miss it!

Remember Blue from the Den?

You can read his book now! Fair warning: Blue is a sexy bastard and a dirty talker.

“Better When it Hurts is an intense and heartbreakingly beautiful story. I couldn’t read fast enough to see what would happen next with Blue and Lola. A definite 5 star read for sure!”

~ Jenika Snow, USA Today bestselling author

Read BETTER WHEN IT HURTS now!

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I try not to scan the floor when I enter. There’s already a buzz in the air, the hunger and desperation of a strip club on Saturday night. I’m ready to earn money, ready to move my body.

Ready to pretend Blue doesn’t bother me.

He’s nowhere in sight, and I breathe a sigh of relief. A group of men are still gathered near the railing. They’d tipped me pretty well while I was up there, so I figure I have a good shot at a lap dance. I saunter over, my breasts barely contained in the red bikini top, my skin coated in sweat and glitter and the thick smoke of this place.

“Nice set,” says a low voice from behind me.

I turn to see Blue standing there, arms crossed so his muscles bulge, lids lowered in that intense way of his. Shit. “Thanks,” I say, but the only thing I’m really thankful for is that my voice doesn’t shake.

He’s the head of security at the Grand, which should make me feel safe. Except we have a history. And he hates my guts. So there’s no affection in his eyes when they scan me up and down. No kindness in his voice when he adds, “You look great.”

The way he says it, it sounds like a threat. He makes me feel like the scared little girl I used to be when I knew him before. And him? He’s like the big bad wolf, sizing me up before he swallows me whole.

I force myself to shrug at him, to toss my hair. “Thanks, sweetie.”

He circles me, surrounding me. “But then, you always look great. That’s

what you like, isn’t it? Having men panting after you? Leading us along by our dicks?”

My throat gets tight. I know that’s what people think of me. They take one look at my lipstick and my short skirt and assume the worst. God, they’re right. But it’s worse to hear it from him. Worse because he once believed in me. “Do you expect me to apologize for earning a living?”

His lids lower. “Not for that.”

I can’t meet his eyes. I know exactly what he wants me to apologize for. And he’ll never believe me. Even showing weakness in this game is enough to get me killed. “I don’t apologize to anyone.”

“Of course you don’t,” he says, his voice full of loathing. “But I don’t want your words.”

I can’t help but whisper, “What do you want?”