Page 47 of Merciless Heir
He moves, sliding his cheek against me and I drop my hand. “So?”
I could con him, win this. After all, I learned how to twist lies into truths to my own advantage from the best. But I’m not going to do that. “You’re on. I’ll start. How old are you?”
“You’re not trying. You stole my wallet.”
My mouth twitches as I try not to smile at the mock serious expression on his face. But his eyes…he knows the base part of me, how I can’t back down, and this is definitely a challenge. “I’m setting a baseline.”
He breathes out, gaze hot. “Thirty-five. Almost thirty-six.”
“True.”
He only looks at me and has a swallow of his whiskey. “Your illustrious career on the other side of the law. You said it was exaggerated. You want me to think it isn’t, I think it is. Am I right?”
I stare at him. I could lie and he wouldn’t know, he—
“Right now, you’re thinking of a way out of an answer.”
He’s bluffing, I’m sure of it. “Just mulling it over.”
“No mulling.”
“Rules on rules?”
“They’re like Russian dolls.”
I want to laugh, but I take that sip. I point at him with my glass. “Why is all this so important to you?”
“That’s not yes and no.” He slides a hand over his thigh and my mouth goes dry. “And I told you. I want what’s mine.”
“You asked me to sell it for you.”
“Yeah? But I want it first. I want to know what it’s worth and then we can do that. I want what’s mine. That’s why it’s important. I want what’s mine.”
I hesitate. He does, I know that, but I don’t know what else is there, motivating him beyond what he told me. And how he looks at me when he says that… “Okay, what about love? Do you believe in love?”
“Why, Sadie,” he says, mocking me, “Do you have a heart?”
“You can’t answer with an answer.”
“No.”
I stare at him and he stares back, not reacting. Finally, I take a sip. “Something we can agree on.”
“Are you an only child, Sadie?”
“Yes.”
He just smiles and takes a sip.
“You think you know me, Kingston?”
“Not at all; that’s why we’re doing this.”
“You know what I mean. You think you know the truth about me?”
“Yes.” He lifts his glass. “You need to drink. You skipped.”
“You’re cheating. You keep asking things.” I take a savage swallow. “And you went and took my turn. You don’t play fair.”