Page 10 of Claiming His Throne
She still in the ballroom?
I roll my eyes, as if he doesn’t know exactly where she is.
Me:
Yep.
Dad:
Okay. Don’t forget to find your brother.
Great! The idea of going home and falling into bed is more appealing than having to hunt down my little brother right now. Pressing the green button next to Hudson’s name, I bring the phone to my ear and wait for him to answer.
“Looking for me?” he asks.
“Yeah, where are you?”
“Just about to walk out of the Royal.”
“Meet me at my car,” I tell him.
“Sure thing, boss.” Hudson laughs and cuts the call.
When I finally catch up with my brother, I get a good look at his face. “Who the fuck did that?” I ask, fucking pissed that someone thought they could touch him.
“Relax, big bro. I already handled it.” Hudson shrugs.
“Get in the car.” I take the keys from the valet and hand the guy a fifty. “What happened?” I say to my brother once I’m pulling away from the Royal.
“I went to LA with Aiden. We stopped in some bar where some fucking asshole was roughing up some woman. I stepped in. Then all of his buddies stepped in, and Aiden and I put them all on their asses.” Hudson laughs.
“That’s it? A bar fight?” I ask.
“Yep. What’d you think it was?”
“Something more exciting than that. What’d you go to LA for?”
“Aiden has it in his head he’s destined to find himself a star. I was humoring him.”
“Aiden’s a fucking idiot,” I grunt. Aiden’s also our cousin, our Uncle Carlo’s youngest child.
“He is, but he’s family,” Hudson says. “You see the hot chick who was looking for Mom?”
“Hot chick?” I turn to glare at my brother.
“Yeah, some chick named Molly was looking for Mom. I showed her to the ballroom.”
I blink and count to ten in my head, because hearing my brother refer to Molly assome hot chickhas my fingers turning white on the steering wheel. “She’s the fucking enemy, you moron. Do not talk to her. Do not look at her. Do not even think about her. Hear me?”
“I hear you, but why is she the enemy?”
“Because she’s the fucking CEO of the Olive Group, dumbass. She’s trying to buy up buildings on the Strip.”
“Okay, so why is she so under your skin?”
“Mom’s making me take her to the gala as my plus-one,” I groan.
“Could be worse women to have on your arm. I’ll take her if you don’t want her.”
