Riot Hearts: An Enemies to Lovers Romance (Saints of Crow Book 1) Read online

  A part of me knew he was right—about the city, about the people, and about how far people were willing to go to get what they wanted. But because the words had come from his mouth, I didn’t want it to be right.

  Correction, I didn’t want him to be right.

  It was early morning and my first meeting as a representative on the city board was in two hours. Because of last night, my need to prove myself was even bigger than before.

  Whether or not I’d like to admit it, River’s words had impacted me.

  There was no denying that he had played this part of the game a lot longer than me.

  The next morning, I woke to sunlight slipping through my glass windows in my apartment. My back stung when I stirred on the couch. The sleeves of my half-open shirt were pulled up and my forearms were covered in acrylic paint spots.

  After I kind of, may have, kept an eye on Emory and ran into her, I’d gone to my apartment and done some painting until I could no longer see what I was doing. In the early hours of the morning, I’d fallen asleep on my couch in an odd angle.

  For the last couple of weeks, it wasn’t a surprise to anyone when I didn’t sleep at the estate. My father grated on my nerves, but as a guy who had idolized him my entire life, it still made me uncomfortable to disrespect him. Nowadays it was awkward conversations over the breakfast table with no more than “Yes, Father” and “Will do, Father” from my side.

  As for Emory, the girl was scratching me in all the wrong places.

  Groaning, I swung my legs off the couch. I sat there for a few seconds, cracking my neck before checking the clock. It was five-thirty in the morning. Two hours of sleep was probably way too little for normal humans, but my body knew how to function on low amounts of sleep. Case in point, my internal clock had woken me up.

  Heading for the bathroom, I shoved away the aching in my muscles.

  In the light of day, I found myself dwelling over Emory a bit too much. I didn’t know who her lawyer had reported to, but it was someone, because the second she stepped out of his office, the news about her inheriting her family’s fortune spread like wildfire. No surprise there.

  But why was she getting drunk and depressed over inheriting millions?

  I forced myself not to think about her as I stepped into the shower and let the cold water wash away the remnants of last night.

  Today was a new day and an important day. The city board had a meeting today. Yes, on a Saturday—there wasn’t any rest for the wicked.

  We were going to discuss the future of the board and the city now that Frank and Martha Lauder were dead. It was going to be oh-so fantastic. Afterward, based on what the board agreed to, I could find out what to do with Emory.

  As for the Lauder family, I wondered who’d replace Frank and Martha on the board, because as far as I was knew, there was no one else who could take over, except for Emory, but she was only nineteen. And I was pretty sure neither of the other board members were down with a nineteen-year-old sitting at the round table—nonetheless a female. They were old-fashioned like that.

  After rinsing off and making sure all the dried paint from last night was scrubbed off, I wrapped a towel around my waist and headed for my adjoined bedroom with my phone in hand.

  My bedroom had floor-to-ceiling windows covering two of the walls and a stunning view over the city, probably the best view in the building. Maybe the penthouse apartment would have a better view, but I didn’t particularly like big spaces. They made me feel vulnerable, and there was nothing I hated more.

  As predicted, before I could get dressed, my phone rang.

  “Hey.” It was Nico. “Father is still on me about where you are all the time. I’m wondering the same.”

  It was true. In the last few weeks, I’d spent less and less time at home.

  “So? I’m an adult. I don’t need chaperoning.”

  “River,” Nico said with an interlaced sigh.

  I smothered a growl before it reached my mouth. “I’ll see him at the meeting today.”

  Strolling over to the dark wood closet covering an entire wall, I scanned the selection of ironed shirts, blazers, tuxes, ties, and bows. No vests, though. I hated those almost as much as Emory.

  I found a pair of tailored, black dress pants and slung on a white shirt. Buttoning it, I walked back into the bathroom.

  Because I had plans to drink, I called reception and had them order a car for me. After breakfast and a cup of coffee, I met it outside the building.

  By then the city was already buzzing. I watched as kids ran around already. Sure, there was no school today, but htat didn’t mean you got the day off. Not around here.

  Of course there was always an exception, and in St. Crow, that exception was the Blackrose Academy of Creative Arts, located in the old part of town. The place looked like an abandoned church and from here, you could only see the top of the dark gray steeples. On a national scale, Blackrose Academy was the pride of the city because it encouraged artistically talented people—people who wanted to do more than have a boring white-collar job. Those kids did whatever the hell they wanted, it seemed.

  I never went there because my father shipped me and my brothers overseas the moment we turned eight and left us there until we were eighteen. Then, we had to come home to go to the college of his choosing. My father had always had a clear plan for our future. Mine was to become a corporate lawyer—probably so I could help him push through his shady business deals without drawing the attention of the police or government. Although, the Sinclair name held so much terror that no one would dare to touch him.

  “Mr. Sinclair,” Sean Adley’s father greeted me as I stepped inside the building.

  “Mr. Adley.” I nodded back at him as I shook his hand. He had the same blonde hair as his son, except his was grayer at the sides.

  Behind him and farther in, I saw Father standing with a frown. Excusing myself from Mr. Adley, I walked over to my father.

  “You’re late,” he clipped.

  I gritted my teeth. I wasn’t late. I was seven minutes early. Yet, I didn’t argue. I said nothing as we stepped into the elevator.

  “You know we must show a united front,” Father said with a hidden reprimand. He wanted us to appear as a unit, as one. That couldn’t be further from the truth, but I sucked it up.

  “I know.”

  We were quiet until the elevator reached the top floor where the rest of the board was gathered outside the meeting room.

  There were seven founding families on the board. The Sinclairs were one of the original four, and then there were the three other families who represented a modern change—the Lauder family being among them.

  And when I looked through the glass walls leading to the meeting room, I was shocked to see a certain brunette with a ponytail, blood-red lips, in a shirt and black blazer sitting at the table, in my seat.

  As the group of men we’d met outside in the hall stopped to chat, I mumbled an excuse and went straight for Emory. When she noticed me, her eyebrows lifted slightly.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked, surprise edging her voice.

  My eyes hardened. “I’ve been coming with my father to these meetings since I came back from England. The question is, what are you doing here? And in my seat?”

  Her gaze flicked to her lap and she looked up with a smirk on her lips. “This is your seat? Where are we, middle school?”

  An itching coated my throat and a growl built up. “You think you’re so elegant, but I seem to remember someone rubbing up against me last night.”

  Her cheeks flashed pink, and I knew she was embarrassed over her behavior.

  I was about to pick up her sassy ass and place her in another chair, but the old people came flocking into the room, my father being among them.

  His gaze cut to me but didn’t stay there. After giving me a once-over, he looked at Emory, and something in his eyes changed. Maybe he didn’t expect to see her, either.

  She was only nineteen af
ter all.

  I wondered what the rest of the board thought of her, but I guess they couldn’t do much about it either way. Considering she was here, they must’ve been fine with it.

  Grudgingly, I pulled out the chair next to Emory and sat. A soft snort came from my left and when I glanced over through my peripheral, Emory sat there leaning back and her lips twitched.

  She loved to invade my space, didn’t she?

  “Right,” Mr. O’Malley, Eleonora O’Malley’s grandfather and the oldest member on the board, said as he sat at the end of the table. “Shall we jump right in? We have a few matters to discuss today, and my secretary will write the report which will be mailed to all of you.”

  Unsynchronized nodding and muffled mutters sounded over the table. My narrowed gaze sliced to Emory, whose eyes were glued to Mr. O’Malley’s receding hairline.

  “First matter to tackle is the recent passing of Mr. and Mrs. Lauder.” He inclined his head, acknowledging Emory. “I can see we have young Ms. Emory Lauder with us today. I see you’ve gone through the legal stuff with an attorney.”

  All eyes went to her. She folded her hands and braced her forearms against the black table. “Yes, I have.”

  It was amusing to see how she faced the challenge clear in O’Malley’s voice head on. She wouldn’t last long. Give it one hour and she’d be asleep and drooling on her posh shirt.

  “Will you be attending future meetings in person or…?”

  She hesitated but only for a split second. “Yes.”

  A muscle in my father’s jaw ticked. “Very well. If you have any inquiries or difficulties with understanding, feel free to ask.”

  “Don’t worry, I can handle myself.”

  I couldn’t resist the urge to snort under my breath. A few glances were sent my way but most of them looked away. My father’s eyes remained on me and they burned like two lasers. I hated the way he looked at me but loved that I had the power to make others feel the same way, too.

  Clearing my throat, I thumbed my collar and pressed my mouth shut. Why did it feel like I was suffocating in this room?

  As the meeting continued, I had difficulty concentrating. Emory’s deep citrus perfume tickled my nose, and I hated how she’d managed to infiltrate every damn part of my life.

  We discussed formal matters, such as trivial details about how the board would address certain issues. These rich assholes were control freaks and wouldn’t let anything pass without their explicit approval.

  I was one of those assholes, and I wasn’t ashamed.

  There was nothing wrong with having money, and people who thought so probably didn’t have any.

  Despite my best efforts, my attention seemed to drift off the conversation and to Emory, who looked so content sitting there. An argument broke out between the other members, and I took my chance to egg her on.

  “You’re doing a good job of pretending you know shit,” I whispered.

  Slowly, she turned her head and looked me dead in the eye with the most bored expression ever. “I’m not pretending.”

  “No?” My smile grew. Of course, I knew she wasn’t stupid, and I knew her family often included her in business because they weren’t as conservative like most of the town. No, I only did this to annoy her.

  “That doesn’t mean my parents never discussed business with me. And yes, they discussed it with me. Not like your family where your dad tells you what to do. Right, River?”

  I ground my teeth together. “So, what have we been discussing the last thirty minutes?”

  She held my gaze in a challenging stare. “We’ve been discussing the possibility of building a new hotel down by the pier on the southside, city expansion, and making the town more attractive to tourism”

  I suppressed a smirk. You missed a thing.

  “And we discussed whether or not to give Sinclair Corp. or Lauder Inc. the job,” she added flawlessly.

  “Son,” Father rumbled, “Ms. Emory. Care to enlighten us about what you’re discussing? I’m sure you young folks have some important input.”

  Before I could answer, Emory cleared her throat. “Yes. I think it’s a good idea to open a new hotel. It will drive more tourists to the city, and it’s a great neighborhood. But I also think it’s important we think green. People nowadays are concerned about the environment and want to make good choices.”

  I looked back to my father in anticipation. His eyebrows were slightly raised and his lips pressed tight. “It’s a good initiative, Emory. But… I think we have to focus on what’s more economical and beneficial to the city.”

  “Well, environmentally friendly equals more money, Mr. Sinclair.” She cut me a quick glance from the corner of her eye. “For example, investing in CFL or LED lights, you save more money in the long run because they use less energy.”

  The whole table had been stunned to silence and a rumbling laugh came from deep in my father’s throat.

  “Impressive.” He nodded, but something wicked hid behind his eyes. “I like your input, Emory. I will keep it in mind when Sinclair Corp. begins the process.”

  Father leaned back in his leather chair, but Emory leaned forward.

  “Sorry, sir, but I don’t think we agreed on whether Sinclair Corp or Lauder Inc. should be in charge of this hotel.”

  Did she have a death wish? I believed she did.

  “Shut up,” I coughed silently. She only glared at me like I said something outrageous. Believe it or not, I was trying to help her. I wouldn’t wish my father’s anger on anyone.

  My father uttered another chill-inducing laugh, but Emory narrowed her eyes at him. She didn’t understand what kind of sociopath he was. He would not like her arguing with him in front of all the respectable members of the board.

  “You’re an amusing young lady, aren’t you?”

  Emory pursed her lips, looking unsatisfied by his way of addressing her. Father had seriously underestimated her if he thought she’d tolerate being patronized.

  “Very well, I guess this is something to be voted on. Perhaps at our next meeting so everyone can have some time to think their decision through. Over to a happier subject—in the occasion of the city’s 150th Founders’ Day, we will be hosting a fundraiser to build the slums up again. I would like my son, River,” he gestured at me, “and Emory to take the lead on organizing it.”

  Without thinking, I looked to Emory, who cocked a brow at us. I looked back to my father.

  “You want me to what? Plan a fundraiser with her?” I snapped my jaw shut so hard my teeth almost cracked. My fists clenched until the blood was no longer there.

  Of course, my old man wanted me to plan a stupid winter formal for prepubescent teens, instead of doing something…. I don’t know, worthwhile of my time. I was set to do stupid things like pick out flower decorations with the most annoying girl on the planet while my brothers would help my father run the business.

  “River,” my father growled, setting his cold eyes on me in a scolding glare. “You will be honored to plan the celebration of our Founders’ Day, yes? I’m sure the board can all agree, it would be wonderful if the future of this city would take part in this.” He inclined his head at Emory and me.

  The majority of the people nodded with him.

  I wondered when exactly my father took control over this meeting and when the rest of the members became his bitches.

  But how could I be surprised? My father was good at getting his way.

  The representative from the Colby family shifted in his seat. “I like your thinking. I think they should be allowed to go on the yearly trip to New York this fall, too. It will be good if they start building connections. As you all know, it’s a tradition New York contributes to our Founders’ Day, and if young Ms. Emory and Mr. River are planning it, I think it’s a good idea to let them show what they can do. What do you think?” he addressed the rest of the board, who nodded in agreement.

  “We need a moment,” I interrupted, standing so fast my chair screeched o
ver the floor. “I suggest a five-minute recess.”

  Grabbing Emory’s hand, I dragged her out of her chair. She tensed but didn’t pull away. Although she resisted, I pulled her out into the hallway and shut the door after us before turning to her.

  “You need to tell them we can’t work together.”

  Her brows dipped low and she grimaced. “What?”

  I faked a short laugh. “Don’t pretend you want to work with me any more than I want to work with you.”

  She blinked and her lush lashes temporarily distracted me. They made her eyes bigger and brought out the light flecks of green in her otherwise blue eyes. “Uhm, no, I don’t. But I’m not going to be the childish one who refuses to work with you.”

  “Well, I have too much at stake. I have a reputation to uphold. You don’t.”

  “Which is exactly why I won’t do it. No one respects me here, and I need to make a good impression. Besides, I can play professional if I have to. Can you?” She cocked her head at me in challenge.

  A muscle in my jaw ticked. “My professionalism isn’t something you should question, little Nightmare.”

  “Don’t patronize me. You know I see right through it.”

  If only the nightmare wasn’t beauty and brains.

  I raised a brow at her and narrowed my eyes. “So, you’re fine with being shipped off to another town? With me?”

  “I do what I have to do to prove I belong here. If you have a problem working with me, go ahead and tell them, River. I dare you.” Her red pout pulled up into a smirk and her eyes glimmered with mischief. She already knew what my response would be.

  If I didn’t hate her, I’d wonder what kind of trouble we could get into together. We would raise hell, for sure—and I’d have a lot of fun doing it. But no.

  Emory tried to bite down a smile. “That’s what I thought. You don’t want to disappoint daddy. So, get your jet ready, Sinclair, because it seems like we’re going to New York.”

  Her attempt to not smile failed and a triumphant one spread across her lips. Although it infuriated me, I was also impressed. Emory had always been an impressive girl, but this business savvy side of her was new.