Page 40 of Claiming His Throne
“You didn’t think to call me?”
“I didn’t see the point of waking you up for it. Again, I’m fine.”
“How the fuck did his head explode?” my dad asks.
“I have no idea,” I admit. “Caught some of his girls selling in one of our clubs.”
“I’ll look into it. How long are you planning on being in Portland?”
“A couple of days.”
“Okay. Keep your brother out of trouble.”
“Always.” I cut the call and pocket my phone. “I give it three minutes.”
“Three minutes for what?” Molly questions.
“Before my mother starts blowing up my phone because of this.” I point to the fresh stitches on my face.
“You know, I could recommend a good plastic surgeon. Fix that so it doesn’t leave an ugly scar,” Molly says.
“One, nothing could turn this face ugly, not even a scar. Two, why the fuck do you even know plastic surgeons? There is nothing not naturally fucking gorgeous about your body.”
“Thank you.” Molly beams at me. “But I meet a lot of people through my work.”
Sure enough, my phone rings. I pull it out again and see my mom’s name flashing on the screen. “Hi, Mom,” I answer.
“What happened to your face?” she asks. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine. It’s just a few stitches,” I tell her.
“The doctor says you should be taking antibiotics.”
“The doc is being overly cautious. Honestly, I’m fine, Mom.”
“Dad says you’re in Portland with Molly,” my mother hums, sounding way more excited about that fact than what my father had been.
“She needed to get home to her parents, so I offered to bring her on the jet,” I explain.
“And how exactly did you know she needed to get home so early in the morning, Alfie?”
“Ah… you sure you really want me to answer that, Mom?”
“Not really, but remember: she’s a major donor this weekend. Do not screw up my event because you can’t keep your dick in your pants,” my mother scolds. “And don’t hurt her. She seems like a nice girl.”
I chuckle. Molly is anything but a nice girl when you get her alone and naked. “Wasn’t planning on it. I’ll be back for the event. Love you.”
When I pocket my phone, Molly is smiling at me. “You are such a mama’s boy.”
“I am.” I shrug, unashamed. My mother is the fucking best.
“How much trouble are you in for skipping town?”
“Molly, I’m a grown-ass man. I don’t get into trouble with my parents. I don’t live at home.”
She quirks a brow at me, and I sigh.
“My father is pissed. He doesn’t like that you’re in town trying to buy up buildings. And my mother is thrilled because, in her words, you seem like a nice girl and I’ve been instructed not to hurt you.”
