Page 12 of Reed

I open the SUV, and a steely purpose overcomes me. I want that land, those buildings. I want it all. I’ll show her, Fanzio, and my best friends who the hell I am and what I’m capable of. I’m done fucking around.

Nothing will stop me from getting what I want. Even if I have to destroy her to get it.

CHAPTERFOUR

REED

My feet feellike lead as I make my way toward Owen’s office. I’ve barely slept a wink all weekend, thanks to the bombshell the gold digger dropped on me on Saturday.

Hell, I don’t even know how I got here.

The guys’ voices all fall silent, and their focus descends on me.

“What the fuck happened to you?” Mase asks and tilts his head from side to side.

“Please tell me you didn’t kill someone.” Shaw pinches the bridge of his nose, and I jolt because my brother is incarcerated for doing just that.

I drop down into the chair, and my daze continues.

Something hits my head, but I don’t move. Since the second my apartment door closed on me after returning from the “charity” event on Saturday, it’s like I was given the pieces to an important puzzle that I’m struggling to piece together.

They were right; she is a gold digger, but why was she at a swanky hotel bar dressed the way she was? Was it all an act? A way to lure men into bed. At least I know what I’m getting with the women I pay for.

“Reed.” Mase snaps his fingers in front of my face, but I don’t respond, uncaring to bat them away.

The bump looked real. Very fucking real.

And oh, sweet Jesus, she has kids. A lot of them.

“Tell him Lucinda has genital warts, and he might have them.” Tate chuckles. “That’ll freak him out.”

“You do realize he can hear you himself, right?” Owen snipes back at Tate’s childish antics.

“Shut the fuck up,” Tate clips.

“I found her,” I mumble, and the guys all sit forward. “The woman. I found her.”

“And?” Mase asks, and searches my face with a furrowed brow, then his eyes travel down my body as if looking for something to explain my unusual behavior.

“That’s good, right?” Tate grins from ear to ear, and I internally scoff.

“It’s awful,” I choke. “Fucking awful.” I drag a hand over my head and blow out a deep breath. So fucking awful.

“Is she married?” Tate asks, and I flinch.

Oh shit, she has kids. Is she married? My eyes feel like they might pop out of their sockets. Oh God, I’m a homewrecker.

“Worse,” I admit meekly.

I swallow hard, finding it difficult to construct the words. “She’s pregnant.”

“Oh, fuck” slips from Owen, and I couldn’t agree more.

Surely, it’s not mine though, right?

She’s a gold digger. She didn’t correct me when I called her one.

She was living in a hellhole and has to borrow money from a friend. She isn’t a lawyer.