Owned (Office Intrigue Book 8) by Nicole Edwards (year 2 reading books TXT) 📗

home.” He motioned down the hall. “There’s a library and an office that way. Guest rooms upstairs. I’ve informed my boys to keep clear.”

“You should teach your boys respect,” I stated flatly, glancing past him at the two jerk-offs I’d had the displeasure of dealing with.

TJ’s gaze skimmed my face. It was obvious he wasn’t sure how to respond to that remark, but I knew him. Well, in fact. He would take my request to heart, deal with them appropriately. TJ was not a man who wanted to come across as lacking in any manner.

“Consider it done,” he said, his tone somewhat clipped.

I offered a nod of thanks.

Without waiting for more, TJ turned and walked off, greeting another guest.

“Perhaps we should check out the library,” I told Braelyn when I turned back, gesturing for her to head down the hallway.

She smiled, obviously hearing the mirth in my tone. While I did have a library in several of my residences, including my main estate on Sapphire Island, I still considered home libraries to be pretentious. As for my reasons for having a room dedicated solely to books … well, to put it simply, it was par for the course. Considering what I did for a living, people expected certain things from me. And though I couldn’t care less what others thought, my ridiculous wealth, which far surpassed anyone at this party, afforded me plenty.

When we stepped into TJ’s ostentatious library, I waited while Braelyn tried to call her brother, the phone to her ear.

After a few seconds, she shook her head, frowning. “He’s still not answering.”

Retrieving my own phone, I pulled up Ransom’s contact info and dialed his number. A few seconds later, I was leaving a voicemail.

“Does he usually avoid your calls?” Braelyn asked, sagging against the wall, arms crossed over her chest.

“No. Never.”

“Shit,” she muttered, then she was on the move, pacing back and forth.

I followed her movements briefly before scanning the room. The ceiling was roughly twenty feet high, some awkward mural of what could’ve passed for Greek mythology painted across it. The walls were lined with dark wood shelving, all filled to overflowing with books. The bulk of which I was almost certain cost more than a small country. One entire bookshelf was dedicated to TJ Arlington and his plethora of BDSM-related publications.

I doubted Braelyn would’ve been able to tell me the color of the shelves much less a single book title since she seemed to be studying the overpriced gold rug covering a majority of the floor as she blazed a trail back and forth over it.

“Why don’t you tell me what’s going on,” I suggested. “Perhaps I can help.”

When she stopped her midnight marathon, Braelyn turned to look at me. This time, when those beautiful eyes met mine, they were flooded with tears. It was clear she was making an attempt to hold them back but failed when one glistening drop rolled over her smooth cheek.

Later, when I was alone, I would ponder my reasons for wanting to pull her into my arms, shield her from whatever torment plagued her, protect her from all the evils of the world. That wasn’t an emotion I was aware I’d been programmed with, being that I’d never felt it before.

ONE

Fourteen months later

Wednesday, December 30, 2020

Braelyn Bishop

“How long have you been in the area?”

The question came from the handsome, if a bit plain, man sitting across from me, and now that I thought about it, it was possible this was the second time he’d asked me that tonight. Maybe the third.

Question was: did he not believe me? Or did he just not listen?

Either way, I offered a smile, said (again), “All my life.”

Matthew “my friends call me Matty” Sandusky, my date for the evening, had been interrogating me with mundane and unimaginative questions ever since we sat down for dinner at one of the most popular restaurants in Chicago. And while the food was exquisite at this particular establishment, I wasn’t sure how I felt about it for a first date.

If Matty— Nope, can’t do it. He’s a grown man, for heaven’s sake.

If Matt had known anything about me at all, he would’ve known I wasn’t fond of pretentious, and this place had left pretentious a few rungs down on the ladder. This was one of those linen-and-candlelight venues, the kind you selected when you had something important to celebrate like a graduation or an engagement or most definitely an anniversary. Not a first date. Not with me, anyway.

But the wine was good, and Matt was paying, so who was I to complain?

“Well, you should consider yourself lucky,” Matt said kindly before taking a sip of his wine.

Ha! Lucky? That would be the last word I’d use when describing myself.

“Well, I do love it here,” I admitted. Just trying to play my part.

It wasn’t a lie. I couldn’t imagine myself living anywhere else, especially since I was born and raised in Chi-town.

Granted, there was no record of that. Not for Braelyn Bishop, anyway. That name belonged to the identity I’d taken when I was nine, back when my brother decided it was time we escaped our family’s sadistic clutches.

Not that I would share that with Matt. Or anyone else, for that matter.

When Ransom chose to hide us in plain sight, changing our names so that we could remain within the same city as the parents we were desperate to evade, I hadn’t asked questions. Not because I was too young to know what was going on, because that certainly hadn’t been the case. Having the parents I had, I’d been forced to grow up early. Rather, I hadn’t needed to question Ransom’s reasons. I trusted my brother with my life. Even to this day, he was the only person I truly trusted.

“Where’re you from?” I inquired in an effort to be polite.

“From here, of course.”

Of course. I smiled because it was obvious he expected it.

Having met Matt just a few days ago at the coffee shop near my