The Cherished Wife by Chweety

Charles tossed aside the cards in his hand, his long fingers brushing over the base of his other hand. "What do you think?" Annie shook her head. "I don't know!"

Annie was on pins and needles, and though he would never admit it, Cody was just as eager to hear what Charles would say. It felt like an eternity before Charles's cool and detached voice sliced through the silence. There was an edge to it, icy and menacing. "If she had crossed me, she'd be in a far worse spot than she is now!" Annie's face drained of color, and she stumbled backward. She would have fallen if not for Cody's quick reflexes catching her.

Cody guided the shaken Annie out of the room with a comforting arm around her. Ronald trailed behind them and quietly shut the door.

With a playful wag of his finger and a thoughtful stroke of his chin, Sean teased, "Charles, you've really mastered the art of giving someone the creeps."

Charles lifted his gaze, giving Sean a challenging sidelong glance. "Are you saying you're up for a taste of it?"

Sean's bravado faltered, and he raised an eyebrow. "No way. I don't need that kind of VIP treatment. But you've got to admit, this is getting juicy. Someone's got a quicker draw than you!" Charles's eyes narrowed, a hint of a smirk. "Him making a move doesn't shock me."

Sean clucked his tongue and shook his head in mock dismay. "Simon's got a much heavier hand than his brother, that's for sure."

gave him a look that was cool and unreadable. "He jumps

more cutthroat than his. Otherwise, the York family would not be so

this

not care much for business, but he knew enough to keep tabs on the high-stakes games of the

to the outside world, he was just another wild child, living it up without a care. Little

this time to control how others saw him and to send a chill down the spines of the Yorks and the Shaws. Simon was no

cold-hearted as they come. Who would have thought he would stoop to sending two goons to

to know. Why didn't

his tongue. "You also could've

cat play with a mouse? It's not about the catch.

ancient times, you'd own a medieval torture dungeon!"

one arm, the other hand lazily tucked in his pocket. "Come with me