Page 14 of Midnight Curfew

“But I want you to stay,” he says in a tone that might sound playful to others, but it’s a threat.

She sets the glass in front of me, and I eye the double shot of vodka.

I don’t have a problem with addiction like my mother did, but I’m not ready to let my wits get away from me in here. Not yet.

I shove the glass back over to him.

Slowly, he pushes it back, staring at me without blinking. “You have to at least try it.” He takes a taste of his own. “Devon Law flew it in from Russia for us. One of the last cases from the original Siberian distillery before production was moved out of country.”

I don’t give a shit. He can drink the thousand dollars’ worth of liquor in my glass himself.

I want to leave, though, and I want him to know I belong. I can handle anything.

Throwing the glass back, I shoot the drink in one swallow. The smooth liquor burns down my throat, nice and cold.

His lips tilt up in a smile before he takes another sip. The warmth hits my stomach, just the taste making my limbs relax and my breathing slow down.

“If you make this family money,” he continues, “you can fuck whoever you want in here, okay?”

Yeah, just not in the real world.

It’s not a surprise to him that I don’t like women, but I’ll have to marry one. I’ve always known that, and I’m fine with it.

I push the empty glass away. “Is Ava joining you in Aspen?”

“Why?” He swirls his glass, the cubes clinking together. “You want the house to yourself?”

His wife and he are rarely in the same place anymore, but she’ll want to get out of the heat, same as him. Her presence won’t interfere with his other women, because he uses hotel rooms and apartments.

Leaning in, I tell him, “I want Sophia to myself.”

His eyes dart up, and I feel my grin at the back of my jaw. He almost looks impressed.

My stepsister is two years younger than me, and there’s no reason why he would deny me. He’s done with her.

“Well, I’ll be damned.” His gaze rests on his glass as he tries to fight his excitement. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

He breathes out a laugh, finishing his drink and taking the bottle, pouring us another shot.

I shake my head, starting to get up. “No.”

He stops me. “Just a sip.”

I pin him with a stare.

And then I grab the glass, shooting it again in one gulp.

Slamming the glass down, I hear his laughter, loud enough to draw eyes from those nearby.

Motherfucker.

“I love that you don’t back away from a challenge,” he coos, gesturing to my face. “It means that scar will get the response it deserves.”

Damn right it will. I stand up, buttoning my jacket, and he rises as well. Taking his tablets, he hands them to an attendant. “Will you tuck this away for me, baby?”

She nods, he tosses me one more look, and I watch him join Mitchell Kenmont on the couch.

In twenty seconds, I’m back outside, climbing into the car my driver still has waiting. The others can find another way home, the two double shots of vodka heating my blood to the point that I’m either going to kill him or fuck someone six guys already did.