Broken Reign: Enemies-To-Lovers Romance

“All good things, I hope?” I smile back. Maybe I can use this in my favor.

Felix steps closer, and I have to fight my desire to step back. But I can’t risk looking rude or having him see the true depth of my hatred toward him.

“Felix needs your help with a sensitive matter.”

Turning toward my boss, I meet his stare. “Of course. Whatever Mr. Bernard needs, it would be my pleasure to help.”

“Very good answer. Then you won’t have a problem attending a gala with him.”

“No, of course not. When is this gala?”

“Next week. It’s the Fire and Ice Gala.”

“I’ll pick you up.” Something about the way Felix says this has me not wanting him to come to my place.

“No. It’s okay. I’ll meet you there.”

“No. I insist.”

I’m about to object when my boss’s hard stare meets mine. “Let the man pick you up. Can’t let him not look like a gentleman,” he jokes.

Nothing is funny about this, but I have no choice. I know enough about Bernard that I can’t object, not without throwing up a red flag, so I nod.

“Very well.” I move to step away. “If that will be all, I do have a lot of work to do.”

“Yes, that’s all. You can go.”

I walk off to my office, not at all happy about this turn of events.

I shake my head back and forth. Stop. This is good. Everything is going exactly as planned. Hours pass, and before long, I’m looking at the clock on my desk. It’s time to head over to see Tobias.

I never did eat, but I guess I’ll have to do that later. Instead of lunch, I scoured over everything on the company’s server on Felix. When he started his business. When he amassed his fortune. The dates ran back about twenty years.

That’s when he took over. I was six years old when my parents died. He was in his thirties. The fact this man wants me makes bile form in my stomach.

There is more about him, cases from before my time. If the rumors are true, I believe he’s much more than the magazines say. He’s not a good man. A drug lord. Evil. He rained bullets over his competition and supposedly killed, too.

Never acquitted. Never stood trial for his crimes. Crimes that have affected the innocent. I grind my teeth together. Conflict of interest or not, I will make him suffer for the pain he inflicted. The pain he inflicted on people who mattered to me.

I shut my computer and stand, and then I’m off, ready to meet with another devil. Is this one any different? He wants out. Or so he says. He just needs to finalize things. Does that make him better?

Or is he also a wolf?

But the question is, behind the hard exterior, is there more? Or is he the devil like Bernard? Only time will tell. For now, I can only deal with one devil at a time. Felix Bernard must have my focus.

17

Tobias

Where the fuck is she?

I told her to be here after lunch. Not that I gave her a time, but it’s now three o’clock, and she’s still not here.

Each time my feet hit the concrete floors of my office, the sound echoes through the space. I’m pacing, and I don’t know why. Everything is set. Gideon and I will fly down to Miami to meet with Emil. No one within my organization knows about him or the pills he distributes to me, which I sell to Lorenzo.

Just as I go to grab my phone to call her, my cell rings. It’s my security detail with a text, letting me know she’s here and making her approach.

The need to throw her off her game grabs me by the balls, and before I can think better of it, I’m pressing the call button for the elevator and stepping inside.

The elevator reaches the ground floor and then opens.

Skintight dress again. I let my eyes peruse her for a second before I pull my gaze away. She’s stunning, and if I allow myself, I could stare at her all day. But I can’t, and I won’t. It pisses me the fuck off that I can’t turn off the attraction. She doesn’t deserve it.

Skye rolls her eyes as she makes her way inside, standing as far as way as she can in the enclosed space.

When we are between floors, I press the stop button, bringing our ascent to a halt.

I move toward her. She moves back until she’s touching the wall.

“You’re late.”

“I thought you hate elevators.”

“You have no idea what I hate . . .”

“Why don’t you tell me then, it would be a lot easier to deal with your moods.”

“I hate . . .” I move closer until I have her boxed in. “Being made to wait.”

If I think she will cower at my tone, I’m wrong. There are no shivers or fear. Instead, she stands taller.