Ruined Castles (The Elite King's Club 8)

“We’re about to land,” she says sweetly, and I bring my eyes up to hers.

Black hair like Madison, but the wrong color eyes. She reeks of desperation too, and if there’s one thing I have always admired about Madison, it’s that she’s anything but desperate.

The flight attendant bends over, flashing Abel her ass but bringing her hands down onto my thighs. “Do you have any other trash that I need to take?” Her fingers travel up farther.

I raise a brow at her, a smirk creeping onto my lips as I stretch my legs wide. Leaning forward, I brush my lips over her ear. “Just yourself.” I lean back in my chair and whack her hands off my thighs. “And don’t ever fucking touch me again.”

Her cheeks redden, but I’m already looking back down at my phone, lost in Madison’s profile. I’m going to murder her. The problem with playing cat and mouse with someone that you love is that they know exactly how to bait you.

Out of the corner of my eye, I ignore Abel pulling the flight attendant onto his lap, burying his face into her swollen tits. I draw the line when he starts undressing her.

Tilting my head, I watch as his hands dip beneath her panties and her eyes come to mine as she shoves Abel’s face into her chest. She sinks her teeth into her bottom lip and my face distorts in distaste. “Abel, take your fucking to the mile-high area.”

They do, both leaving to the back of the plane.

I click on the last photo Madison posted. An ocean in the background with her and fucking Jesse smiling smugly at the camera. There are more people in it, but all I see are she and Jesse. If that wasn’t enough to have me popping off, the caption sure as fuck does. To friends you can trust. I grit my teeth. I know that’s a dig at Nate, but it still pisses me off. She doesn’t trust me.

Fuck no. Yeah, I’m dragging her ass home. Yeah, we’re having these babies and we will be a family, but nah. I’m not going to make this easy on either of us.

The car idles outside as I keep my eyes fixed on the front doors to the hotel.

“What if she runs again? Like in ten more years,” Abel says casually, his finger tapping against his thigh.

“She won’t.”

“Oh, you know that? Bet you didn’t know that she was going to run this time.”

I calmly start counting down the minutes in my head. Turning to the side, I watch as she comes into view, jogging down the sidewalk. In yoga pants and a windbreaker jacket, she slows her run, checking her smartwatch as she walks through the entry doors.

“Come on, baby… let’s see what you’ve got.” Abel quiets, and I watch her glorious ass sway side to side as she begins to disappear through the entryway. Her walking slows until she finally stops, her back still turned to me.

My lip curls upward. “There she is.”

Goose bumps swell over the nape of my neck as adrenaline surges through my veins. She slowly turns her head over her shoulder, her eyes landing straight on the city car. The windows are blacked out, but she knows. She fucking knows.

She starts running.

“Bitch.”

I shove open the door in a blink and fly toward the entry, pushing people out of my way. The person behind the reception calls out, but I flick my hand up to shut them up as Abel jogs in behind me, heading straight for the sassy receptionist. Most likely to name drop to the manager exactly who the fuck we are.

Madison’s eyes fly around in panic as she pushes the button on the elevator continuously. Just as I’m about to reach her, she slips between the doors and hits the close button. Just before the crack closes, she smirks up at me, her middle finger up.

I bang my palm on the metal door, pushing the button again but watching what level it lands on. Penthouse. No doubt.

“I’m going to marry this fucking woman, and have kids with her? Fuck!”

The doors open again, and I jump in, hitting the button to the penthouse while hoping that it’s not a private elevator level.

When the elevator starts moving, I pull out my switchblade to keep my fingers busy. You know, just in case they end up wrapped around her frail fucking throat.

The doors separate and I take the first step down the hallway. My black loafers against ash-colored carpet. Rolling up the sleeves to my button-down shirt, I start looking left and right. There are two rooms on this level. I’m hoping one is empty and the other isn’t.

My phone vibrates against my leg and I pull it out, reading the text from Abel. Room 100.

One hundred.

Motherfucking one hundred reasons why I should kill Madison.