Page 1 of His Reckoning

Chapter One

Kayla

My parents always wanted me to settle down with a rich man. Today, I’m moving in with a billionaire. Unfortunately for them, this definitely isn’t a love story.

The last time I saw Sawyer Maccini, we were sitting across from each other at his friend’s place as he questioned my intelligence and I questioned whether arrogance was a prerequisite for becoming a billionaire.

My friend Melissa grabs the key fob from her back pocket and places it in front of the private elevator’s sensor pad. The panel lights up. She pressesPfor penthouse, then hands me the key fob.

“I believe this is yours now,” she says enthusiastically.

I take it from her, glancing down at my plain, brittle nails. The kind that haven’t seen a manicure in months.

Strange problem to have while riding an elevator up to the penthouse I’m about to call home.

We come to a sudden halt, and the doors glide apart. Melissa leads the way to the front door and turns the knob, opening up to the biggest foyer I’ve ever seen in New York City.

“Here it is.” Melissa smiles.

I roll my suitcase into the foyer, which is bigger than our entire apartment.

Melissa just married Sawyer’s best friend, Colton, which means I can’t afford our two-bedroom apartment on my own anymore. Luckily, we were at the end of our lease. This is her solution until I can find a place I can afford on my own.

We walk through the foyer, which has two massive coat closets and dark mahogany wooden floors, into the main living area. There are arched windows every ten feet with French doors that open up to a wraparound balcony with iron posts that look like we’re in Europe.

Late afternoon sunlight spills across the dark wood floors, catching in the crystal chandeliers and turning the entire apartment gold.

I suddenly feel underdressed for a place that probably expects people to drink champagne before breakfast.

The detailed crown molding is painted in a rustic cream color. The kitchen is simple yet expensive. White marble countertops with white cabinets and gold details everywhere. And more chandeliers.

Melissa’s eyes scan the place slowly. “Isn’t it breathtaking?”

I glance around the living room again. The chandeliers. The marble. The balcony that probably costs more than everything I’ve ever owned, combined.

“It’s aggressively expensive,” I say.

Melissa laughs. “That’s the least enthusiastic reaction anyone has ever had to this apartment.”

“It’s not that I don’t appreciate it.” I drag my suitcase farther into the room, my wheels clicking against the hardwood floors that probably cost more per square foot than my parents’ house. “It’s just strange.”

“Strange good or strange bad?”

“Strange like I feel like security is about to escort me out because I obviously don’t belong here.”

Melissa rolls her eyes. “Please. Sawyer won’t care.”

That’s debatable.

The first time I met Sawyer was at a bar, where I believe I told him he wasn’t hero material for my books.

As a romance author, I know a hero when I see one.

And Sawyer screams secondary character. Which probably wasn’t ideal considering I now lived here.

Melissa walks toward a hallway off the living room. “Your room is down here.”

I follow her, suitcase rattling behind me.