Charming (New York Heirs #3)

by Drea Blackery

  “Two,” I said archly. “Besides, I already have a boyfriend, and he's called Charles Duncan. I'm on call literally twenty-four seven.”

  Karin sobered at that. “I know. You're doing it for me.”

  “For us.” Looping my arm around her shoulders, I gave her a side hug. “It won't always be like this. It’ll get better one day.”

  It had to.

  My words were just as much a promise to my sister as they were to myself, and I held on to them like a lifeline.

  It’s been ten years since we first made our way to this city. Ten years of living paycheck to paycheck and being in danger of having our heating and electricity cut. Ten years of constantly moving and mentally waiting for some kind of guillotine to fall.

  I was exhausted, but even if we wanted, we couldn't go back to San Juan. Not after what had happened with our father.

  If I closed my eyes now, I could almost make out the tang of his half-drunk scotch on his desk mixed with the coppery stench of blood, the acrid, burnt odor of gunpowder—

  “So you like the painting?” Karin's voice broke in.

  I opened my eyes again, letting the bright lights of the exhibition hall drown out the painful memory. “Yeah, very much.”

  Karin leaned her head on my shoulder as we stared at the canvas.

  “At least you took away my dark circles,” I murmured.

  “I made your boobs bigger too.”

  “Ah. Thanks.”

  “I can't wait for the day my work is featured in a real gallery,” Karin mused. “Do you think it will happen?”

  “Absolutely. One day you'll have an entire gallery just for your work, or maybe they'll be displayed beside Picasso, Da Vinci, Andy Warhol—”

  Karin laughed. “They're not the same style, or even from the same era.”

  “Fine, but the point is that they're famous, and you'll be too. I may not know art, but I know that you're talented.”

  “It'll take more than talent,” she said wistfully. “You need connections, and a lot of luck. We don't have much of either.”

  We used to, a small voice in my head said. We had everything once.

  I forced a smile on my face. “Don't focus on that. Just think of all the stuff you'll get to do once you're successful.”

  “Hm. I'll hire a plane to write Charles Duncan's name in the sky, followed by a penis.”

  I was snickering when a soft voice cut in at my left.

  “Ms. Alecia Beckett?”

  I turned to see a grey-haired, suited man beside me, his head inclined in a slight bow.

  “My employer would like to meet with you,” he said in an even tone. “He just purchased the painting.”

  I smiled proudly at Karin, who was practically glowing. “Actually, that’s my sister's work. It’s her he wants to meet.”

  The man cleared his throat delicately. “My employer made it quite clear that he wanted to speak with you. Alone,” he added.

  His quiet but firm words sent warning bells ringing in my head.

  Then I stilled as a thought occurred to me.

  “How do you know my name?” I frowned. “The description didn't mention it.”

  The man said nothing, merely waited for my reply.

  So this was how we were going to play it.

  My eyes narrowed, and I turned to Karin. “Wait for me here. I’m going to find out what this employer's deal is.”

  “This way, please,” the grey-haired man said, stepping aside for me to walk.

  With a backward glance at Karin's worried face, I left with him.

  Unsurprisingly, this whole thing had me uneasy.

  No matter how much this mystery guy liked Karin’s painting, it was still weird to want to meet the subject instead of the artist. Not to mention that his secretive servant/butler didn't want to reveal how he'd known my name.

  The man took me a short distance down the hallway outside, and we soon came to a stop in front of a heavy door. There, he scanned a card and pushed the door open.

  I stared past his arm into the expanse within. “It's dark,” I said blankly.

  “It's part of the exhibition, Ms. Beckett.”

  Cautiously, I edged a step into the room and peered into the darkness. As my pupils adjusted, I noticed a faint light coming from around a low wall.

  I paused. “Are you coming with me?”

  “No, but if it helps, this hall is directly connected to the one we just came from. There is a straight corridor there at the back.”

  “Thanks, but a lot can happen in a dark place, so I don't exactly feel reassured by that.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “I want the door left open. The moment it shuts, I'll start screaming.”

  The man inclined his head in agreement, though he looked reluctant about it.

  Shooting him a final wary look, I stepped into the room and skirted the low wall, making my way towards the main area.

  Like the earlier exhibition, large canvases hung on the walls here, with a few sculptures displayed on the floor. The pendant lights were turned off however, and each of the artworks were illuminated with only a single bulb. The dim lighting cast long shadows across the floor and walls, which made the place more than a little creepy.

  Hoping that I wouldn't suffer the same fate as the blonde in the horror movies, I took one halting step forward, then another.

  “Hello?” My voice echoed back at me. “Anyone there?”

  I stiffened when something shifted in the corner of my eye.

  Looking around quickly, I spotted a dark figure lounging on a bench by the far wall.

  “Hi,” I called. “I have some questions for you too, so I'd appreciate if...”

  I trailed off as the man stood up.

  Crap, but he was huge. He looked like he was about a foot taller than me, and the size of his shoulders probably doubled mine.

  My heart thundered in my throat as he strolled towards me, his shoes clipping smartly on the linoleum floor.

  But instead of coming to stand in front of me, the guy stopped five feet away.

  I squinted and tried to make out his face, but it was so dark that I could only see his white shirtsleeves and black slacks.

  The rest of him remained cloaked in shadow.

  I decided to make the first move. “How did you know my name?”

  “The same way you know mine,” was his reply.

  I blinked at the timbre of his voice. It was low and masculine, and seemed to rumble deep within my bones…

  Hold on.

  What did he just say?

  My throat tightened, and the warning bells in my head began to make a racket.

  “I don’t know you, actually, and I think you're trying to intimidate me. So if you don't come into the light in five seconds, I'm leaving and calling security.”

  “I should’ve guessed,” the guy mused with a hint of mockery in his voice. “You’re still as annoying as before.”

  My blood chilled at the meaning of his words.

  What the heck?

  “Who are you?” I demanded, my voice louder this time.

  We stood in silence for a beat, and then I sensed that the guy came to a decision.

  A strong leg clad in black slacks and a polished dress shoe stepped into the pool of light that I was in, followed closely by tapered hips and waist, and then a broad torso. His shirt sleeves were folded up to his elbows, revealing muscular forearms lightly dusted with dark hair.

  My breath caught in my throat when I finally saw his face.

  This guy was unbelievably, alarmingly attractive. His chiseled jaws and cheekbones could have been cut from marble, his strong brows and straight nose were solid proof of an unfair universe. The only thing that looked soft about him was his dark hair, which was expertly arranged in a classic style.

  But what made my heart stumble the extra beat was his pale blue eyes. The piercing irises were the exact shade of an arctic glacier, and looked just as warm.

  They were also eyes I had seen before,
ten years ago, in a seaside town in California.

  And if I still hadn't realized who this guy was yet, his arrogant, cold smirk as though he owned the world gave him away.

  My lips parted in a soundless breath.

  “You.”

  Ryland Wyatt, self-entitled heir, spoiled trust-fund prince, and tyrant of my high school and hometown, cocked his head and stared down his nose at me.

  “Hello, Allie cat.”

  ***

  ARROGANT is available on Amazon and free to read on Kindle Unlimited!

  About the Author

  Drea Blackery is a writer with an unhealthy passion for all things steamy and angsty. Broken alpha heroes are her crack, and from the moment she typed her very first “Chapter One”, she fell in love with writing romance books and hasn’t looked back since.

  Drea lives with her husband and her dog (creatively named Woofie), and her favorite things in the world include spending time with her family and friends, curling up with a tub of Ben and Jerry’s to binge-watch anything trending on Netflix, and of course, reading.

  Email her at dreablackery@gmail.com for any inquiries, reviews, questions or discussions!

  Thanks for reading!

  XOXO,

  Drea

  Copyright © 2020 by Drea Blackery.

  All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or utilized in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher, except in the case of brief quotation embodied in critical reviews and certain noncommercial uses permitted by the copyright law.

  Resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.