Black Thorns (Thorns Duet #2) by Rina Kent

They both startle, but it’s not in a bad way. More like their eyes get wider and they stare at each other in an ‘is this happening?’ type of way.

I might not hunt down high-profile cases like Knox, but I get a lot of work that will look good on their resumes.

“What? No.” Daniel slides in front of me with the grace of a panther. “That’s not how it works!”

“It is now.” I turn around and leave. The two interns hesitate for a second before they follow without a word.

“This is called preferential treatment, because you’re Nate’s prince,” Knox whispers as I pass him by.

“Take it up with him then.”

“Why the hell are you even here?” Daniel calls after me.

“Take that up with Candice,” I motion at her and she gives him a gloating smile as she guides the interns to my office.

I tell them what’s expected of them, efficiency without headaches, then grab my briefcase and leave.

Daniel and Knox are still making a show out of dividing the interns and I ignore them as I head to the exit.

“They’re at it again.” Aspen, the only senior female partner at the firm, falls in step beside me and we get in the elevator.

She’s in her early thirties and one of the founders of Weaver & Shaw. They would never admit it, but Aspen is the line that kept Nate and Kingsley Shaw from killing each other and actually doing something productive with their destructive energy.

In a way, she’s Nate’s strategist and close friend, but she can turn into a fireball that matches her hair color in court.

“I know.” I release a sigh as I hit the button for the parking garage.

“How have you been?”

I raise a brow and she raises a perfect one back.

“Let me guess. Nate tattled and now, I have to deal with his enforcer arm and secret weapon of mass destruction.”

“I’m anything but a secret, Sebastian. And you forget that I was there when you hit rock bottom. I’m going to be the bearer of bad news and inform you that it won’t happen again, not only for the sake of Nate and the firm, but also for your sake.”

“I’m going to be fine.”

“You better be. I don’t want to start using what I know to keep you in line.”

The elevator pings open and we step into the parking garage, then stop. “What are you talking about, Aspen?”

“Everything isn’t what it seems in your family.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything.”

“It’s not supposed to. If I give you all the answers, how are you going to figure it out on your own? But here’s a hint, your grandparents and even Nate are hiding something from you.” She waves at me and strides to her car.

What the fuck was she getting at? I know for certain that Aspen wouldn’t have brought it up if she didn’t think it was of vital importance, but I’m also in no mood to play her mental games.

I’m not in the mood for anything. Fuck moods.

Shaking my head, I get into my own car and go to my meeting.

My mind isn’t focused on work or forming interpersonal relationships, though. Usually, I’m the best at this—using my grandparents’ name whenever I see fit.

Nate doesn’t, because he wants a clean break from them, but I don’t see why we shouldn’t. After all, we’ve put up with their snobby, stifling behavior for long enough and we should be able to reap the rewards.

But today, all I want is to leave.

And once I’m able to, I drive back to my apartment. It’s located in a quiet building on the outskirts of Brooklyn. Not only is it spacious and soundproof, with a great view of the city, but it’s also a place where I can be myself.

Not a lawyer, not a Weaver, and not Nate’s nephew.

Not even Sebastian sometimes.

Just…me.

The interior is vast and the wood flooring shines under the late afternoon sun coming through the floor-to-ceiling windows. The only furniture is a TV that I’ve only turned on a few times.

There’s no sofa or rugs. No decorative things or sacred belongings.

I have a bed in the bedroom, a desk and a library in my home office, some utensils in the kitchen, and that’s it.

It’s been a few years since I moved here, but I’ve never felt the need to make it a home.

Which is another reason why I don’t invite people over.

This is where I get to be alone with myself. Where I can drop whatever mask I wore for the day and just exist.

It’s my haven that I don’t want anyone else in.

But I invited someone over.

Naomi.

I stare back at the text I sent her a few days ago. She read it, but she sent no reply to either deny it or confirm.

When I made that offer in my office, I didn’t expect her to take it. She wouldn’t actually do whatever I want just so I’ll stay away from her husband.

Because if she did, that would be no different than agreeing to an affair.

However, she must realize that I won’t let it go with merely groping and licking her. Even after all this time, she has to know that putting my hand around her throat wasn’t enough.

The mere recollection of that day still gets me fucking hard.

Naomi must’ve seen the sadism and need for more in my eyes, which is why she bolted out while she was still able to.