Chapter 18: Pancakes

"I'll go," Dorian said. "It's my carpet."

"It's my building's insurance," said Christian, "and my lawyer's problem."

"It's my security," said Maddox, "and my men are already at the rope."

"Your men are standing there."

"They're standing there because I told them to stand."

"Then I'll tell them to move."

Their voices stayed low, and every word of it was polite.

My own voice rang out of the little black cube, tired and flat.

*I forged those papers.*

Dorian stepped in front of Christian.

Christian stepped in front of Dorian.

Maddox put out an arm and caught them both across the chest.

"Don't," he said.

"Move your hand," said Christian.

"You move it," said Dorian, and he shoved the arm away.

Christian shoved him back.

It was not a punch.

It was one open hand, flat on a tuxedo lapel, in front of three hundred photographers.

The flashes went off all down the rope.

"Rule four," I said.

Nobody heard it.

I said it louder.

"Rule four!"

All three of them stopped.

They turned their heads toward me with their hands still on one another, and for once none of them knew what to say.

"I said I'd watched you be polite for two days," I said. "I didn't say it was a favor to me. I said it was a rule. All three of you. Out."

"Lena," said Dorian.

"I'm done standing between you."

"It was her," Christian said. "She's playing you. She wants it."

"I know exactly what she wants," I said. "And you three just gave it to her."

The crowd had gone quiet.

Behind the rope, Cressida lowered her poster board an inch and grinned at me.

Keep reading free with an account. Start Three Billionaires Claimed Me Tonight from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.