Page 8 of Lavish

I looked at Miles.

He lookedonlyat me.

Mama shook her head. “Now get him the hell out of here before I have security drag him out like the animal he is. Our friendship? It’s done. I never want your family in our presence again.”

Miles’s jaw clenched, his throat visibly working. Then Erik stepped in front of me like a shield—cutting the line of sight between us.

“You heard my mama.” His voice was low and cold. “Get your father. Get out.”

Miles didn’t move.

Just…stared. Past Erik.

At me.

CHAPTER 1

Serena

PRESENT DAY

“This is sloppy.”I pointed my red laser at the crack in the ceiling. “Look at that crack.”

The contractor blinked up. “I don’t think that’s a crack. It’s a spider web.”

“It’s a crack,” I snapped at him, and kept walking down the hall, frowning at every little imperfection I saw.

I can’t believe we’re still dealing with this shit.

The project was already two weeks behind schedule. Two million dollars sunk into this property. And I was losing control.

I couldn’t let Mama know. Definitely notErik.

I’d gotten what I wanted. King Developments was mine. He may run the empire—but this? This was mine.

Everywhere I looked, people wandered like dazed cattle like this wasn’t urgent, like I hadn’t already spelled out the stakes a hundred fucking times.

I stopped in the kitchen, eyes narrowing at a cabinet handle that was off center. “This isn’t even aligned. Did someone eyeball this? I said three-point-two inches from the edge, not three-point-six.”

The contractor flinched and scribbled something down.

Take a breath before you have a fucking stroke.

I couldn’t. There were no breaks. No days off. Shit had to get done, and I had to make shit happen. I should have felt relieved. Instead, I felt…unfinished. Why wasn’t this fulfilling anymore?

My jaw ached from clenching it. My temples throbbed with every heartbeat, and my shoulders felt like they’d been stitched into my ears.

It had to be perfect.Everythinghad to be perfect. Because that’s what a King delivered. That’s what Mama always said.

No excuses. No flaws. No weakness.

I was a goddamn machine now—a finely tuned, professionally polished, emotionless machine. The kind Mama had designed.

For six years, I hadn’t made a single mistake. The only mistake had been giving my heart to something I knew was dead on arrival. I anticipated her every need. I made the company money. I didn’t make anyone second-glance my way. I’d become invaluable.

I paused in the unfinished master suite, staring at the empty windows, the cold floor. If I let myself really feel, really let the silence sink in, it wasalways there, just under the surface.

The exhaustion.