Page 58 of Shattered Veil
Balor spins around, a vein in his neck pulsing in anger. “My brother’s helicopter.”
BALOR’S BROTHERS SENTtheir helicopter for him.
When I specifically heard him tell them no.
I loved the idea of getting naked with Balor again under the glow of white shimmering snow through the window. Now that’s ruined.
Anticipating another hot night with Balor, my panties are freaking soaked. I use the bathroom to calm down and fix myself. When I finish, the room door is open and deep male voices filter in from the hallway.
I edge out and follow the sounds coming from the second room where Balor is with Trace.
The bodyguard stands there in a white ribbed tank top with a gun holstered under his left shoulder.
“I’ll stay here tonight with the Rivian and drive back when the roads open,” Trace says.
“They can give this room to anyone stuck in the lobby,” I say, putting on my coat.
“I’ll let them know,” Trace says to me with a bow to his head.
Gripping my hand, Balor adds, “We’ll see youtomorrow.”
The bodyguard slips his dress shirt back on. “Aye.”
Balor and I walk hand in hand down the hallway to the elevator.
I glance back at Trace who’s smiling at us.
At least this time I’m leaving with Balor instead of being left behind.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Ella
The next day, Balor picks me up himself in a sleek black Lamborghini. Last night, the helicopter smoothly cut through the falling snow and landed us safely on a Manhattan helipad.
He dropped me off at my apartment around ten p.m. My dad, who monitors satellites for Balor, knew the helicopter was dispatched to airlift us out of that small town. If I didn’t go home...there’d be some explaining to do.
Instead of driving us to the command center this morning, Balor parks in front of a high-end boutique on Mayfair Street in Astoria. This city didn’t get any snow compared to the blizzard we saw so far north yesterday.
“Today, your job is to buy new clothes,” he says from the front seat.
“Great. I love dressing you.” I unbuckle myself, wishing I can stay in this amazing car.
He barks a laugh. “I like you dressing me too, but this time, the clothes are for you, butterfly.”
“For me?” I pinch my leggings, cheeks heating with shame. “If I embarrassed you yesterday by wearing old—”
He stops me with a finger on my lips. “Shhh. No. Not at all.”
All I have to do is open my mouth and I’ll be sucking on his fingers.
He helps me out of the sports car and whispers against the curtain of my hair, “You don’t embarrass me. You can never embarrass me. Don’t you see yourself?”
I’m spun around and my reflection,ourreflection, shines off the store’s glass front doors.
“I don’t know what I see,” I confess.
“Your looks had nothing to do with what he did to you. If anything, he was probably jealous because you’re so goddamn beautiful, he thought he needed to bruise you so no one else would want you. But you know what?”