Onyx Dragons Boxed Set (7 Virgin Brides for 7 Weredragon Billionaires) by Night Starla

Author:Night, Starla [Night, Starla]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Published: 2019-12-20T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seventeen

“Jewelry?” Pyro repeated, wondering if the heavyweight CEO of Carnelian Clothiers was making fun of him. “You’re moving from clothes to jewelry?”

Sard Carnelian’s teeth gleamed silver. They met at a neutral location, a private bistro room in downtown Portland. “We sell accessories and shoes. The next logical evolution is jewelry.”

“Why tell me?”

“You wished to know our next launch. I thought you would be interested in our plans.”

Pyro breathed through his teeth.

Amy’s advice to remain calm was as hard to follow as he had anticipated. But he’d taken her advice and he’d successfully drawn out Sard’s plans, even if he’d had to sit on his dominant hand to keep from smashing it into the aristocrat’s smug face.

This was for Amy. For his siblings. For Mal.

“So?” he growled.

“This is our intended debut.”

Sard spread out a series of punctured tiles. Each one was decorated with lines, swirls, and repeating shapes.

Seeing it set Pyro’s teeth on edge. He didn’t recognize any, but he made a point not to memorize aristocratic crests, not even the levels closest to the Empress.

Still, remembering his mission, he asked. “What is this?”

“Zentangles. A human design of jewelry for necklaces, bracelets, and the like.” Sard paused a beat, and then added, “Of course, we will also take custom orders.”

Sure, like official aristocratic crests.

Pyro picked up one of the plastic squares. Although primitive, the markings were close enough that anyone could read between the lines.

And it would never fly. He wasn’t the only dragon who hadn’t memorized the thick ledgers of official crests. Selling these as jewelry was like selling ballistic-launching weapons disguised as play toys.

A low caste dragon might accidentally get privileges. Like fairness. Respect.

And nobody could have that.

He dropped the tile with a clink. “What do you want with my company?”

“In exchange for our port privileges, you’re going to distribute our new jewelry.”

Of course. Dump the risk onto the low caste bastard.

He gritted his teeth on his growl. “We’re getting dismantled.”

“Not if you marry humans.”

“It is always at risk from my mother. She sees no need for two clothiers.”

“When we merge, there will be only one.”

The smarmy aristocrat had an answer for everything.

“Projected profits will be in the billions.” Sard’s red-brown eyes glowed. “We will surpass companies in the heart of the Empire.”

And that alone would probably cost their lives.

Pyro pinched one of the tiles. “If this is such a profitable object, why don’t you distribute it?”

“Because I’m being recalled to Draconis.”

Pyro didn’t know how to respond. None of his intelligence had stated that. “When?”

“Days.” Sard rested both palms on the table between them. “My fiancée has no interest in colonial art. Not even the clothing. My family is retaining the company.”

“Then, the problem?”

“My brother will replace me. He is an aristocrat in good standing. He will expect to be surrounded by the same.”

“You’re aristocrats.”

“My employees are fallen.”

Meaning they had failed important duties and gotten kicked out of the family manor. Forced to make their own way in the world. No promises, no riches, no cushy comforts.

Just like every low caste dragon.

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