Page 60 of Twisted Knight

“Monarch.”

“Monarch?” I ask.

“The reason behind it all.”

“Behind what all?”

“Rhett. His carte blanche.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” I demand, confused as fuck.

“Nothing.” There’s a clink in the background—the neck of a bottle on his glass I presume.

“What’s Monarch?” I repeat.

“Rhett. He thinks he’s the king of the castle.” He waves a hand dismissively. “Ignore me. I’m just drunk.”

“Then you shouldn’t have picked up the phone.” Keep talking, asshole.

“We’re talking about Rowan here,” he asserts. Clearly the fucker is drunk and talking gibberish with his dick in his hand, looking for a contest to prove his is bigger.

He’ll lose.

He’ll most definitely lose.

“We’re not talking about shit here, Williams, but please, be my guest and keep going.”

I glance over to my computer screens. To one where emails are populating. To another where an image of Rowan stares back at me.

“You’re fucking it all up.”

“And yet my money was so enticing to start with.”

“Yes. No. I mean Rowan.”

“What about her? The part where she’s way out of your league and doesn’t want you, or the part where you and Rhett disregard everything about her?”

“You’re wrong.” A slurp of what I assume is his drink. “And I don’t disregard her.”

“Could’ve fooled me.” I pause on purpose. “The question is why, though. You say I’m to leave her alone, and yet you want more from her than any of us.”

“What the fuck does that mean?”

Note to self: alcohol turns Chad into a pussified tough guy.

“It must be hard to want to marry a woman who doesn’t want you back.”

“You don’t know shit.”

I chuckle into the phone. That’s the only answer I need to give to further the poor man’s paranoia.

And he takes the bait. “Like you know what Rowan wants.”

No, but after this conversation I have every intention of finding out.

You’ve made her a pawn in this game, Chad. A piece to position and maneuver and take advantage of in order to use to my advantage.

I’d thought about it.