32. Phoenix
Phoenix
A fter a great day and evening at Dad’s with Slate and Wilder, we’re home.
“I still can’t get over this level of luxury,” Michaela says as we step out of the elevator that opens into the penthouse. “And I get to live here now.”
“Get used to it,” I say. I’m just about to tack on, for the next year , but I don’t. Those words leave a bad taste in my mouth.
“ Tu casa es una casa enorme, elegante, y magnífica, hombre ,” Michaela says with exaggerated hand gestures.
Translation: Your house is enormous, elegant, and magnificent, buddy.
“ No, mujer, mi casa es su casa—nuestra casa ,” I say, waving my finger between us.
Translation: No, woman. My house is your house—so our house.
I may not be fluent in Spanish, but living in LA and employing a number of staff of Hispanic origin, I get by.
“ Bueno. Nuestra casa .” She smiles. “Your enormous, elegant, and magnificent penthouse is our home.”
I wink.
There was no time for her to move to my place after the wedding because we were flying out to Paris, but since our return, Michaela and I have been living together.
The highlight of the move was when she discovered her walk-in closet jam-packed with designer clothing, shoes, accessories, and jewelry.
Thanks to the astute buyers at our hotel boutiques, I was able to replace everything she lost in the fire.
I even had Niels ship her family heirlooms. The irreplaceable jewelery is stored in a safe in my home office.
She was jumping up and down, clapping her hands together for a solid five minutes.
Phoenix Konig shacking up with a woman.
Unbelievable.
I didn’t know what to expect, but contrary to what I thought, I don’t feel like I’m suffocating.
The few times Marie-Clémence stayed over at my former penthouse while we were seeing each other, I always knew there was a way out.
It wasn’t permanent. But I’m married to Michaela.
I thought for sure living in such close proximity with a woman for an extended period of time would drive me to jump off the roof of this building.
That would be the stupidest thing, considering I have sweet heaven right between Michaela’s legs.
“Wanna hit the hot tub before I ravage your body?”
She shoots me a glance.
I should be able to read her expressions by now, but I’m stumped.
“You could ravage me inside the hot tub?”
My eyebrows shoot to my forehead.
Her suggestion throws me off.
“You were balking at the idea of sex in front of a window in Paris, but now you want me to fuck you outside in the hot tub?”
“What can I say?” She shrugs. “You’ve corrupted me.”
“I’m always down for kinky, kitten, but no way am I allowing anyone to cast their eyes on your heavenly body. Not to mention, we’re only two weeks into this marriage. In other words, we’re still fresh meat for the paparazzi. Let’s not take a chance.”
“Okay, we’ll keep it to the bedroom.” Her tone drips with effrontery.
Who is this woman? “Who said anything about the bedroom?”
My phone rings.
So does hers.
What a coincidence.
“It’s Keira,” she says, her eyes moving from her screen to mine.
“It’s Slate.”
“I’ll go up to the bedroom.”
I nod. “I’ll be on the balcony.”
“Hey, Keira,” she says, answering the call.
It’s a great effort to peel my eyes away from her delicious ass to answer my brother’s call. “We just left Dad’s place. You miss me already, little brother?”
“You wish.”
I open the glass door to the balcony, step outside and close the door behind me.
An illuminated LA stretches out under a dark sky.
I never get tired of this spectacular view.
“What’s up, Slate?”
“That’s why I called. I want to know what’s up with you.”
I frown at the phone. “You lost me.”
“Granted I’m no expert on fake relationships, and maybe you two are great actors, but you and your wife seem… more real than fake.”
I pace around, buying myself some time.
“You still there?”
“I am.”
“If you’re not answering, I’m guessing I hit the nail on the head.”
I let out a long sigh. “I’m not sure it was fake on our wedding day. Not for me, anyway.”
“Whoa.”
My words shock him as much as they shock me.
“I’m not going to lie. When a desperate Niels showed me Michaela’s photos, I was instantly smitten.
When she came barging into my office, she had me by the balls.
Then, there was that first kiss…” I let my words trail.
“We only kissed twice before we got married, but it could’ve been a thousand times and it would’ve been as effortless. ”
“Let me guess. The marriage isn’t platonic.”
There’s no point in lying. “It’s not.”
Slate sighs. “I hate to be the voice of reason, but what in the actual fuck?” His sharp tone cuts through the night’s quietude. He continues before I can answer. “Mixing business with pleasure is always a recipe for disaster, big brother. It’s a textbook CEO 101 case.”
“It’s—”
“You said this was a business deal. Now, you’re thinking with your dick?
What if you piss her off? What if she walks out on you?
If this blows up in your face before the board appoints another CEO, for the first time in history, we’re going to have to answer to an outsider.
Do you really want to be the Konig who loses the throne? ”
Flames of anger threaten to erupt from my chest like a dragon. “I resent the implication.”
“It’s only one year,” he says. “Keep it simple. Jerk off. Watch porn. And if all else fails, go to Dark Compulsion, sit your ass down in a voyeur’s room all night long, jerking off to live fucking, then go back home and jerk off some more.
So what if you end up with carpal tunnel?
As long as you keep your eyes on the prize. ”
His insulting words are crude and an assault to my ears.
“Who says I can’t have the throne and the girl?”
“That’s overly confident, even for you.”
“Fuck off, Slate.” I jab my hand into my hair.
“We made the decision as a family you were going for the CEO position. If you didn’t have the balls to see it through, you should’ve said so. You should’ve stepped aside and let me marry Michaela.”
I see red and I’m filled with unshakable jealousy. He’s my brother and my blood, but damn him if he thinks Michaela was meant to be his. He has no claims on her. None whatsoever.
There was talk of Slate becoming CEO because the board is more accepting of his personal life and his playboy image isn’t as hardcore as mine. That probability was off the table the second Niels showed me Michaela’s photo.
“I would’ve kept my dick inside my pants for the sake of the family legacy.” He’s not finished with me yet. “You have God knows how many rooms in your penthouse. You don’t have to share the same bed.”
I’m surprised by the animosity in his voice.
“I know what I’m doing, Slate.”
“Michaela is a distraction.”
“Michaela isn’t a distraction. Securing our legacy is my top priority?—”
“You could’ve fooled me.” He scoffs. “Wait until Roman, Wilder, and Dad find out your status has changed to arranged marriage with benefits . They’re going to be as pissed off as I am you’re willing to jeopardize everything for a piece of ass?—”
“Watch your goddamn mouth, little brother,” I say. “She’s more than a piece of ass, you fucking moron. FYI, Wilder has known since our wedding day there was more between us, and Dad figured it out on his own. He even brought it up today?—”
“So Roman and I are the only two kept in the dark?” His aggressive tone irritates the hell out of me.
“Roman’s main priority is to recover, not keep up to date with the intricacies of my marriage. As for you… I would’ve told you?—”
“Great.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh. “Potter might get his wish after all.”
I grip my phone hard. “Fuck. You.” I end the call, pissed off to no end. “Asshole.” I don’t care if he can’t hear me. I needed that off my chest.