Chapter 15
Fifteen
Cora
The elevator doors open on floor thirty-two and I am hit with a wall of thick testosterone.
Six large men occupy the lobby, filling every available inch of space with waves of authority and…
good looks. I haven’t met a single one of them, but I know I owe them all varying degrees of gratitude for helping me recently.
How these men are not plastered all over social media is a testament to their ability to fly under the radar even though they all look like they belong on magazine covers.
Especially the ones with long hair.
My heart gives a small quiver as I look down at my yellow dress.
I’ve never felt more like a neon sign flashing in a sea of black Armani and Gucci than I do right now.
But it's too late to head home and change. Besides, Rowan seems to be very happy with my pick of outfits today with the way he’s beaming down at me.
He leans in and presses his lips to the shell of my ear.
“You look very worried. I’m right here and you are beautiful.”
He’s very perceptive.
And then there’s the location.
Being from a modest income family and most recently broke, I can’t help but notice all the glamorous marble and shiny gold accents.
In front of me, the open floor throws back the men’s reflections in shades of charcoal and black. Crystals from the overhead chandeliers catch the late afternoon light from the windows and scatter it across the ceiling in sharp, colorful patterns.
Toward the middle of the spacious opening is an area made for making a person feel welcome. My guess is not many people make it this far up in the Redthorne building so if you do, it’s because you’re trusted.
Against the far wall there are a few offices with their doors closed with a few of them being boardrooms. I can only guess this is where the bad guys come to do private deals between the Red Letter men and other bad guys.
Every inch of this place is luxury top to bottom, including the people.
Rowan's hand presses against the small of my back. His palm radiates warmth through my dress and I take strength from that soft contact. It’s not easy meeting new people when I rather bury myself in books and charcoal pencils.
I mentally latch onto the fact that I don’t need to fear the men whose eyes have all moved to me.
They mean me no harm. I can think about their job descriptions later.
Right now my eyes are locked on the woman standing in the center of the room.
Familiar violet eyes meet mine the second I step out of the elevator.
“Cora!”
My smile deepens and that twin connection people always tease us about grows stronger.
She’s cut her sleek black hair short again. Shoulder length this time. It frames the same heart-shaped face structure I have and makes her apple cheeks stand out. A lot of people would say she resembles Snow White but if you do it to her face she’d punch you.
I’ve seen it happen. She’s opted for a skirt suit today that makes her look every bit the billionaire’s executive assistant that she is.
Speaking of her boss, Soren Wolfe is at her side looking worth every bit of his billionaire dollar net worth.
He’s got the same expensive tailored suit as the Red Letter men, same aura of importance and danger.
And he’s madly in love with my sister. She doesn’t see it or is pretending to not see it according to our last conversation, but I digress.
I make a mental note to ask her about it later.
Maybe she was on a sex-a-thon vacation with the man and that is why she couldn’t answer my calls.
Soren’s amber eyes track my every move as I quickly leave behind Rowan to race toward my sister.
My heart hammers in my chest. “Raine.”
"Cora. oh, baby girl! I've been trying to get a hold of you forever!" Her voice breaks with emotion as she speaks.
I pull back and lock eyes with her. “Same. You need to learn how to answer a phone call.”
“Come here.”
I'm wrapped around my twin sister with my face buried in her neck. Her arms crush my ribs and the smell of her soft perfume fills my lungs. Nostalgia threatens to take over but I squash all the bubbly emotions trying to force me into crying. There’s no time for that.
“I missed you,” I whisper to her and she squeezes a little harder.
“Same, baby girl.”
“Will you ever stop calling me that?”
She pulls back, but doesn’t release. “Not as long as I remain the older twin.”
And then I'm right back to being squeezed within an inch of my life.
"You asshole," she whispers into my hair. "You absolute asshole. I called you forty-seven times."
"Same. You didn’t pick up on a single one of them."
I break away enough to see mascara smudged beneath her left eye. She must spot the same for me because we both reach out at the same time to clean the black marks from each other’s eyes.
"You look terrible."
“Ditto, babe.”
Soren moves in beside Raine and settles a hand on her shoulder. “Let the girl breathe for a moment.” There's a slight humor in his voice. And if I’m not mistaken, love.
I file that away too as I turn my face up to his.
"Mr. Wolfe." I step forward and give Soren a quick hug. He smells like sandalwood, fresh rain and oddly like worn leather. His arms close around me with a careful formality that tells me he's tracking every pair of eyes in this room. "It's good to see you again."
His voice rolls low, a baritone that is rough around the edges.
A growl rumbles behind me.
Low. Territorial. Completely ridiculous given that Soren Wolfe is clearly more interested in the dark-haired twin than in the white-haired one. But Rowan doesn’t care about that, I suspect.
I toss a glance over my shoulder. "Don't mind Rowan. He's been pent up at home with me for too long. His social skills are recalibrating."
"Not long enough." Rowan’s voice is flat but his eyes are warm, ice-blue shot through with heat, and the contradiction is the most Rowan thing I've encountered in two weeks of being secluded with the man.
“You better go to him. He looks like he might fight me for you.”
Soren looks down at me and winks.
“I think you’re right.”
Soren releases me with the faintest curve at the corner of his mouth. That’s when my sister's spidey senses start firing off.
"Hmm. There’s something different about you. You look… happy. What have you done differently lately that makes you glow like a thousand watt lightbulb? Besides getting laid.”
I am red instantly.
“Yeah, it’s written all over his face. He’s totally smitten.” She throws Soren a knowing smile and that right there tells me everything I need to know about my sister’s relationship with her new boss.
“I guess I’m not the only one.” I give her a knowing smile and now it’s her turn to blush.
Her eyes rake over me, cataloging every detail from my loose hair, to my dress and boots. "You’ve gained some weight, too. It looks good on you. And you look like you haven’t stressed out over a deadline in a while. Which leads me to why I’m here."
She grabs both my hands and twins our fingers together.
“Wait. Slow down, sis. Let me get a couple of words in.”
A masculine chuckle comes from behind me and I feel Rowan’s warmth encircle mine right before he wraps an arm around my middle.
“I have someone to introduce you to.”
Raine’s gaze turns sharp and moves to Rowan. I can’t see his face but Raine must see something that she likes. Instead of putting the man through a hundred questions like we are in the middle of the Inquisition, she simply nods her head and sticks out her hand.
Rowan takes it.
“Raine Vale. I think it’s you I have to thank for saving my sister.”
“No need to thank me.”
Puzzled, I hold a hand up. “Wait. How did you know? Actually, how did you know to come here?” Both brows pinch together and she looks at me with the same puzzled look. Like I should know.
I wipe the last of the tears with the back of my hand and hope the mascara situation isn't as tragic as it feels.
Raine pulls her phone out. Taps a social media app.
When she flips the screen around the circle of men around us all take a couple of steps closer.
A grainy video starts to play. It’s shot from a distance, probably a neighbor's doorbell camera.
“That’s the front of my house.”
I look at Raine startled.
“Keep watching.”
I do and that is when I see a now familiar large man in dark clothes carrying a woman out of my house.
“Oh my god!”
I clap a hand over my mouth to keep from cursing.
The woman–me–is wrapped in a towel. My ass is barely covered.
Yeah, I remember the cold breeze and trying to get it to cover my ass and my boobs.
My sticky hair flaps against Rowan’s back and I look like a bag of flour tossed over his shoulder instead of a full-grown woman.
Hand to God, he looks like a Viking raiding a suburban bungalow.
My face flames as I watch myself get carried out of my apartment building by Rowan Volkov. "Oh my God. That was caught on video?" I look to each of the Red Letter men, to Soren and then my sister. Everyone has a smile on their face.
"Sorry, babe." Raine's sympathy is undercut by the ghost of a grin she's not even trying to hide. "This went viral three days ago. It's been viewed nearly five million times."
Five. Million. Times.
My heart threatens to stop cold.
Five million people have watched my barely-covered ass get carted out of my house.
Five million people have opinions about my towel coverage and my gardening boots and whether this was a kidnapping or a really aggressive date.
Five million people have seen more of my upper thighs than my gynecologist.
"My God. I'll never be able to show my face anywhere again. Ever. Forget book signings. Forget grocery shopping. Forget existing in public as a functioning human being."
I throw a death glare at Rowan.
He is beaming with pride watching himself carrying me like a caveman's prize while five million strangers watch.
"You think this is funny."