My bodyguard and driver, Luka, holds the door for Scarlet, and I follow her out of the SUV.
“Does he wipe your ass for you too, Max?” She smirks and walks ahead of me, straight through the unlocked doors into the building.
A woman sitting at the front desk asks who we’re here to see, then tells us to take the elevator up to the top floor. I scan the lobby while we wait for the doors to open and find one security guard, who’s scrolling and watching something on his phone.
That’s going to have to change.
“Jesus, you’re a pain in my ass. You know that, right? You need a bodyguard too, Scarlet. You’re about to experience a whole new level of exposure after this deal is announced.” I’ve tried to have this conversation with her before. We all have. But she’s stubborn and not listening.
You can’t have the level of success our family has had and not expect to deal with crazy. I’ve tried to shield her as much as I could, but this move is going to take it to a whole new level for her.
After the elevator doors open, we head inside before moving slowly up to the third floor. The phone in my pocket buzzes with an incoming message from Becket.
Becks:How’s it going?
Max:It hasn’t started yet, moron. Scarlet was late. I’ll call you after.
Becks:Is she okay?
Max:She’s fine. The baby’s fine. Our sister likes to make an entrance.
Becks:Don’t forget. Drinks at Kingdom tonight to celebrate.
I turn my phone to Do Not Disturb and slide it back into my pocket.
When the doors open, Scarlet and I step off and almost flatten the woman waiting on the other side. And that would’ve been a damn shame because she’s mouth-watering. Standing in front of us, her white-blonde hair is a stark contrast to a black-lace dress accentuating sinful curves. The kind a man aches to get his hands on. And when she looks up, it’s with the palest blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
They’re such a light blue, they almost appear to be silver.
And they don’t look happy to see us. “Welcome to the Revolution. Please follow me.” When she speaks, her tone is clipped but raspy as hell.
Like a woman who spent hours calling out her lover’s name while she got fucked hard on her knees, begging for more last night. And my cock takes notice.
Scarlet leans in and lowers her voice. “I guess not everyone’s happy to have us here.”
“Yeah. Looks like.” I nod, shaking myself out of whatever the hell I was just thinking, and discreetly adjust myself before following the women down the hall.
That was unexpected.
I don’t dip into the workplace pool. I’m not a fourteen-year-old kid whose dick gets hard every time he sees a beautiful woman. But there was something about the stubborn glint in her eye. She may look small and meek, but my gut tells me there’s a hellcat buried under all that lace.
She escorts us into a conference room with windows overlooking the empty ice below, and I take a minute to stand there and take it in, like a king surveying his kingdom. The navy-blue and red Revolution logo sits at center ice as the Zamboni makes its way slowly around the rink. Multiple red banners hang from the ceiling above with navy-blue lettering. They list numbers that have been retired, MVPs and championship titles. The last title win was seventeen years ago, and my first goal as the new president is to get a new year listed on that damn banner.
My thoughts are interrupted by the feisty blonde giving me a death stare. “Mr. Brenner will be in momentarily. Can I get either of you anything?”
This woman can only be five foot two at most, putting her at an entire foot shorter than me, but she straightens her spine and stares me down like she’s six feet tall.
I hold my hand out to shake. “No thank you, Ms....” I leave the statement open-ended, urging this woman to introduce herself.
“Ms. Brenner.” She places her palm in mine, and electricity skips between us like a live wire. “Daphne Brenner.”
Fuck. She’s Will Brenner’s daughter and my new administrative assistant.
I pull my palm back. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Brenner.”
Eyes the color of moonlight glare back at me. “I wish I could say the same, Mr. Kingston.”