The Duke and the DJ (The Rebel Royals 3)

He let out a low laugh. A sound that Spin was sure a hungry tiger toying with his food would make. Then he bowed and turned on his heel. His steps were regal as he walked through his domain.

Chapter Thirteen

Zhi ran his thumb over his phone. Parker’s Instagram profile smiled back at him. It was the longest he’d held her gaze since they’d met. Typically, by this time with any other interaction, a woman was already sliding into his various social media inboxes. But all his alerts were silent.

He had the urge to press his pursuit by tapping the little paper airplane icon in the corner of the app. But Spin’s glare and waggling finger arrested his actions. He’d never thought about waiting to contact a woman for a prescribed period. He also had never chased after a woman. Or slid into her DM for that matter. He was usually the one responding, not launching the airplane icon.

Women had always been available to him. He honestly had expected to be bringing Parker home to meet his mom today rather than a DJ to tutor him on how to communicate with the woman he was interested in.

Zhi depressed his thumb, swiping off Parker's profile. He tapped the magnifying glass icon and did a search for his new house guest. Because he didn’t know her real name, he typed in her stage moniker.

He tried DJ Spin but got a large number of results. Placing the cursor at the end, he added d’Elle. No picture of a woman popped up, but he knew he had found her.

There was a picture of a turntable and her hands. He wasn’t sure how he knew, but he knew those were her hands. They’d been on his skin briefly, but they’d left an imprint. Enough for his mind to identify the slender digits in a grainy photograph.

Zhi tore his gaze away from her hands and glanced at the information of her profile. There were hardly any details about her. In fact, there were none. No birth date. No hometown. No school. No relationship. It was like she was a digital ghost.

And yet he was allowing this woman to dictate the course of his life. His thumb traveled back to the top of the phone screen. He gave the paper airplane icon a decisive tap.

Are you in the DJ witness protection program?

A few seconds later her reply came back. That's something a creepy stalker would ask.

Zhi chuckled and put his phone away. She could keep her secrets. Goodness knew he had his own under lock and key.

He knocked lightly on his mother's door. After her gentle acknowledgment, he let himself in. She was sitting in her favorite chair; a royal blue wingback with gold trim. He could tell he’d woken her from the glazed look in her eyes.

"You're back."

"I am," he said. "I think I found a solution."

Her petite form straightened in the chair, but she was still small inside its large cushioned wings. "Another bank?"

Zhi hesitated to go into details. He wasn’t trying to trick Parker. He was truly trying to find a common ground that they might build a future on. If it turned out that ground was just a few rocky pebbles, then he’d … he wasn’t sure what he’d do.

"I've made some new friends,” he settled on. “I think one might be able to help. In fact, I brought a couple of new friends home to help me … figure some things out.”

“We have guests?” She sat up even taller. “You haven’t brought any of your guy friends over in a long while.”

“They’re not guys. They’re two women.”

Now her brows rose. Zhi had never brought a female home, friend or more.

“It’s not like that muqin. It’s … they’re helping me with something. Anyway, you get back to your rest while the beast is at bay.”

“Don't call him that," his mother snapped. She came to her feet, all four foot eight of her.

Zhi backed down. His mother might be small, but she was a lioness when it came to those she loved. Regardless of whether they deserved it or not.

"He is your father,” she said, her quiet voice a low roar that brooked no argument unless he wanted his head bit off. “He's kept a roof over your head, clothes on your back, and food in your belly all these years."

Zhi couldn’t help it. The only way he’d swallow that falsity was if his head were removed from his body. “He is the reason all that may be taken away now."

“You will still respect him.” His mother's soft voice was firm. Her dark eyes were hard as flint.

Zhi was too tired to argue. He let his head bow, and then he took his mother’s outstretched hand. He helped her climb onto her massive bed that she’d always slept in alone. His father’s former chambers adjoined this room as he preferred to keep separate quarters. Zhi pulled the covers up and around his mother and kissed her forehead. With that duty done, he left the room.

A warm shower, a change of clothes, and a glass of wine later, he felt almost like himself. Oswald entered his rooms and showed him the new list of things that needed his attention. Staring at the list, Zhi wished his father was in charge of the mess he’d made, and he could simply be a kid again. But that ship had sailed.