The Scotch Royals (Scotch 3) - Page 13

There was a gun under the seat, so I snatched it with lightning speed.

“It’s me.” Joseph pushed Dunbar’s body to the passenger seat then got behind the wheel. “I’m not packing, so you can calm down. London sent me.” He fastened his safety belt then drove through the light once it turned green.

The only reason why I didn’t shoot him was because of London. Otherwise, he’d have a bullet in his brain right now. “What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking you to have lunch with her. When you’re done, I’ll drive you wherever you need to go.”

Was this a joke? “You knock out my driver and expect me to spend time with your sister?”

“Hey, this was all her idea. I wanted to kill the guy, but she said no.”

“Ironic,” I said. “I want to kill you right now.”

“She told me you wouldn’t. And for some idiotic reason, I trust what she says.” He didn’t turn around and look at me even though he knew I was holding a loaded pistol.

I wanted to shoot him just to prove London wrong, but I couldn’t do that. When I imagined how heartbroken she would be, it made me feel like shit. I turned the safety back on and stowed it under the seat. “Where are we going?”

“She made lunch at her apartment. I’ll wait in the car, and when you’re done, I’ll take you to the strip.”

I couldn’t believe London actually arranged this. When she put her mind to something, she didn’t give up. But I hoped she would give up soon because she was wasting her time. “Your sister is an idiot.”

“You know, I would normally kill you for saying that, but this is the one time I actually agree with you.”

I looked out the window and watched the buildings go by. I knew her apartment was somewhere in the city. I was tempted to look it up a few times, to make sure she was safe wherever she was living. Thankfully, Dunbar was unconscious and unable to tell Ariel what happened. If Ariel knew, she’d burst into London’s apartment with a gun in each hand. She’d hated London before, but now she loathed the woman.

After a short drive, Joseph pulled up to the curb of a small apartment building. It was solidly built, but not in the greatest part of town. Must have been all she could afford on her salary. “She’s in apartment 110.”

I could just get out and wave down a taxi, but I didn’t do that. A part of me wanted to have this lunch. A part of me enjoyed the fact that London went to such lengths to see me again. After not speaking for two weeks, I wondered if she’d given up on me. I wanted her to let me go, but at the same time, I wanted her to fight for me.

I got out and located her apartment in the complex. I stood in front of the door for a minute, thinking about how this lunch would go. My cock hardened when I pictured us ending up on her bed, screwing on the old mattress that had probably been there since the complex was built. It didn’t matter how many women I slept with to get over her, they were never as good in the sack as she was.

I missed it.

Instead of knocking, I walked inside. She invaded my personal space by sending her brother to commandeer my car, so I didn’t feel any remorse for barging into her place when she was expecting me. “I need some painkillers before I leave. Dunbar is gonna wake up with one hell of a migraine.”

She stood at the kitchen counter and turned around when I made my announcement. Instead of looking annoyed, she stared at me exactly the way she used to, like she missed me after I’d been gone at work all day.

I loved that look, and that fucking terrified me.

“I’m sure he’ll be fine.” She grabbed the two plates and set them on the small wooden table that hugged the small living room. Her standard of living was poor, even by poor standards.

But I didn’t have the audacity to insult her. I took a seat at the table and stared at her.

She sat down and poured me a glass of my own scotch, knowing I wouldn’t have wanted water or anything else. She took the seat across from me, looking fine in the dark blue dress she wore. She was overdressed for the occasion, so I knew that outfit was specifically picked to impress me.

And it did.

It was the first time she’d ever cooked for me, and I stared down at the meal of chicken, salad, and rice. It smelled good, and it smelled even better because she was the first woman to ever make me anything. Josephine couldn’t cook if her life depended on it. A life of royalty had made her inherently lazy and stupid. “This looks good.”

Tags: Penelope Sky Scotch Billionaire Romance
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