Mr. Corporate (Mister #3) by J.A. Huss Read Free Book Online

happy to bring up all the little things he seems to have conveniently forgotten.
    “You will not win, Mr. Corporate. You will not. Because I’m the one who always wins when it comes to us .”
    He stops walking and I keep going. But before I step off the path to make my way down the hill, I look back. He’s about twenty yards behind me, standing still. His hair is tousled and messy. His hands are fists, like he’s really angry. And his face. That handsome face, impassive. Because that’s how he rolls. He shuts down the minute he feels challenged.
    “You win because I let you, Tori. And do you know why I always let you win?”
    “Let me?” I snort. “Please.”
    “Because I loved you. I loved you, but all you ever saw was a ticket. A ticket out of the prison you locked yourself in. And I’m telling you right now, Victoria Arias, for the hundredth fucking time, I’m nobody’s ticket but mine.”
     
     

Chapter Eight - Weston
     

    The most ironic thing about Victoria Arias is her refusal to need anyone. Because she’s always been needy. And I’m kinda lying about the whole ticket thing. I like being needed. Most men do. But the thing I hate is the fact that she refuses to admit she needs me. She’s always been that way. Always.
    She doesn’t wait for me to catch up, just runs down the hill, that long dark hair flying in the wind again.
    I sigh and pick up my shoes, then follow her down to the little building. How the hell did things get so fucked up? Last night this was a sure thing. Twenty-four hours ago I thought this contract was a retainer.
    Now I’m even farther away from nailing this down than I was when Liam said I had to compete. Wallace Arlington is probably hundreds of miles away. Hell, maybe Mysterious set me up? He’s always been weird. Maybe he’s working for someone else these days? How would I know? He barely gives us Misters the time of day. And despite helping out with Nolan’s little predicament, he hasn’t been around much as far as I can tell.
    Maybe he and Match have some kind of business going, but who really trusts Match, either? He doesn’t even have a girlfriend. And the fucker runs a dating site. What kind of dating site mogul has no significant other?
    That little fact has been eating away at me for a while now. I just don’t know what to make of it. Add in all the hush-hush shit that went down back when we were arrested, and that guy, Five, whoever he was. I don’t know, but I do know he was dangerous. Like Mysterious kind of dangerous. He just walked in like he was some kind of king and took over.
    Do this, do that.
    No one knows how to work the legal system like that unless they have experience doing it. And the guy was probably not much older than I am now. So what kind of shit was he into? What kind of life was he part of that he knew so much?
    Granted, his advice was all solid. But it still bothers me. Match still bothers me. Where did he pick up a friend like that? I mean, Match was only eighteen years old when we were charged.
    And I’ve looked into his family. I have the family histories of all the Misters memorized, even Mysterious’. And that was not easy to come by, considering he’s the illegitimate son of a big-time Hollywood movie star on one side and the blue-blood heir of a one-hundred-fifty-year-old Kentucky breeding farm on the other.
    But Match’s family history comes off as very blue-collar. Custom motorcycles. And a reality show a while back. Hell, he still lives in Colorado where he grew up. Perfect lives in Colorado now too, but that wasn’t by design. It just happens to be where the headquarters to his family company is.
    And that Five guy was anything but blue-collar. He reeked of money and breeding. So where did that connection come from?
    I don’t know. And I don’t need to care about it right now. My only concern is radioing for that pilot to get his ass back here and pick us up. Get us somewhere with service so I can call Mysterious up and