Wanted_Big Bad Brother_A Billionaire Bad Boy Stepbrother Romance by Natalie Knight & Vivien Vale

Author:Natalie Knight & Vivien Vale [Knight, Natalie & Vale, Vivien]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Crimson Vixen Press
Published: 2018-01-16T05:00:00+00:00

Nicole

“It feels so different,” Palmer whispers, looking up at the ceiling. We’re still lying on the floor of his restaurant, my head resting against his chest as he holds me close.

“What?” I ask him, slowly moving my face so that I’m looking at him.

“The restaurant,” he replies, his eyes still focused on something that I can’t quite see. Maybe he isn’t looking at anything. Maybe he’s just looking inward, rummaging through all the thoughts he guards so well.

“It’s always full, you know?” he continues, distractedly running one hand through my hair. “It’s different when it’s empty. It feels like an empty shell.”

“Tomorrow it’ll be full again,” I tell him, turning to him and placing one hand on his chest. “You’ll see.”

“I doubt that,” he whispers, the tone of his voice so casual and indifferent that I can’t quite decide what he’s feeling right now. It almost seems like he’s trying to detach himself from his restaurant, the one thing in the world he seems to care about.

It breaks my heart to see him talk like this.

“You can’t doubt yourself,” I try and tell him, my mouth going dry as the words leave my lips. How can I be telling him all this when I’m the one that took the leash off Percy?

It’s my fault The Pearl on Park is having issues. If I hadn’t behaved like I did, complaining about a man I knew nothing about, none of this would be happening.

Sure, the slow march of progress would eventually force me to close down my restaurant, but so what? That’s the cycle of life. If it isn’t Palmer’s restaurant, it’ll be a shopping mall next week, or some high-rise condo.

But no, I had to bitch about the competition to Percy, and he took it upon himself to start a war against a man who doesn't deserve any of it.

“It’s over, Nicole.”

His voice... so casual; cold even. It’s almost as if he doesn’t care about what happens next. It hurts to hear him speak about his restaurant like this; I know that, more than anything, he wanted it to be a success.

And now his dreams seem to have been crushed.

“It doesn’t need to happen like this,” I insist, not sure if I believe my own words. What do I know about anything?

I’m just the owner of a small bistro restaurant; I never had to deal with investors or anything like that. I know absolutely nothing about the inner workings of a multi-million dollar enterprise.

“Forget about it. Whatever happens, happens,” he whispers, his vacant gaze reaching for some place where I can’t reach him. I just stay there, nestled against his body and staring at his face, the dim lights of the restaurant making his features sharper.

He’s smiling, but there’s a certain sadness to it.

It’s almost tragic.

More than just it being about the restaurant, I see a deeper worry in his eyes. He feels as if the clock is running out on him, and I know he believes his next breath might be the last one.

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