Connor (The Billionaires of Whispers #3)

12

CONNOR

M y heart thuds heavily as sweat drips down my back. I discarded my t-shirt about a mile back, tucking it into the waistband of my shorts as my lungs gulp in the fresh air. I love running in the mornings in Whispers, and the sunrise here is hard to beat. I have flown all around the world, and not even Greece is better than this.

As I get closer to home, I slow to a saunter and cool down. I’m stressed. Our barley farms aren’t producing what I need when I need it. The weather is wreaking havoc, my mind full of so many things I can’t think straight, the five miles a day I do not even taming the thoughts, and it doesn’t help that I have fucking “Islands in the Stream” playing on repeat in my mind. As I walk to cool down, I look over my own private running track. There’s nothing but me and the clean air and the rising sun. It’s quiet, no one else awake or at the distillery, especially since Dad and Victoria moved up to their new place on Billionaires Boulevard.