Twenty-one and ready to take on the world, orphan Lizzie Gold didn't expect her chance encounter with a stranger to lead to a damnable task - to take down a rising business tycoon.
Ryan Pierce - her viciously handsome target and her new boss - might...
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R Y A N 47 | we drink & make plans
A few hours ago:
Waking up to find Lizzie cuddling me is a sight I could get lost in, even if it takes place at the crack of dawn. She has her head resting over my chest, one hand placed over my abs while my arm is under her body, curled around her frame in a vice-like grip. There is an ache in my forearm which feels like it will have a cramp for the rest of the day.
I don't mind that at all. All it does is make me tighten my hold on her; the fear that every moment with her is a dream I don't deserve to see keeps me grounded. The watch she gave me last night is still on my wrist. I have made up my mind to never take it off again except for showers and recreational activities. The watch is the most precious gift I have gotten from anyone. I am never parting with it.
I am sniffling my nose in her hair, lips grazing her forehead when the vibration of my phone distracts me from the peaceful moment. I grab my phone with a blind hand from the nightstand, swiping to find a text from Reece.
Reece: Have you changed your passcode? I can't get in.
Seeing his text after days of him being away from me provides a sense of relief. I squint my eyes at the screen to adjust to its brightness, typing a text back with my thumb.
I did. Where the hell were you?
Reece: Is it Crystal's birthday again? Not in reverse?
Fuck you
Reece: I'm coming in. We need to talk. It's urgent.
I groan, sliding the phone back on the nightstand before rubbing my eyes. I struggle to pull away from Lizzie, both physically and mentally but manage to move her to the middle of the bed somehow. My muscles protest to not be dragged out of the bed. I pull the comforter neatly over her to not disturb her sleep. She sleeps like a baby, not having any clue about my movements.
Shoving my legs into my jeans hastily, I leave the shirt after being unable to find it. Lizzie and I were wild last night. I don't remember where I threw it during our nasty deeds.
I wait for Reece in front of the elevator, hands on my hips, and the frustration reflected on my face being reflected on its doors. This is too early in the morning to have a confrontation with my brother but if he says it is urgent, I am willing to give him the benefit of doubt.
When he steps out of the elevator, my frown deepens.
His usual put-together personality is scarred by shaggy appearance. His suit is hanging loosely from his shoulders, his shirt untucked with the tie loosened and his hair is a mop of uncombed curls. Even his face looks downtrodden, broken for some unknown reason.
I have the urge to obliterate that reason from the face of the earth for making him like this. But then again — is the reason me? I am his worst enemy like he claims me to be. I won't put it past myself.
