The Girl Who Always Wins (Soulless Book 13) Read online

  She gave a slight smile, but it was obvious the compliment meant a lot to her, because she knew exactly why I’d said it. It wasn’t because of the tight dress she wore or the way her pumps made her calves pop. It wasn’t her hair, her hourglass frame, nothing superficial. It was her mind.

  I fell in love with her mind before her body.

  She flipped her hair, showing a bit of attitude. “I think you’re the only man who thinks that.”

  “Good. I never have to share.”

  She started to turn away. “Just wanted to share the news. I’ll let you get back to…whatever you were doing.”

  “Your place or mine?”

  She turned back to me, her hand still on her hips. “Tonight?”

  “And every night after that.”

  Her eyes filled with playful affection, doing her best to hide it. “Not sure yet. What do you prefer?”

  “I don’t care where we live—as long we’re together.”

  She rolled her eyes. “What a line.” She strutted out of the office. “You already have me…no need to be cheesy.”

  It was cheesy. Even more so because I meant it.

  We sat across from each other at the bar, the same bar where I’d met Lydia for our date all those months ago.

  I shouldn’t have gone home with her. I should have gone for the woman right in front of me.

  She drank her beer then dug her hands into the basket of fries. “His labs are all normal, his reflexes are good, the scans are unremarkable…another mystery.”

  My life was my work, so it was nice to have a partner who could share that passion with me. Michelle was smart, but we were in totally different fields, and she could never understand the daily trials of my profession. But with Daisy, it was like talking to the love of my life and the expert I trusted the most.

  It was nice.

  We went back and forth, collaborating even when we were off the clock, even when we got a drink to wind down after the long day at the clinic.

  “How are things with your trials?”

  “We had significant progress with a couple of our patients.”

  “How many?”

  “Three out of ten.”

  “Ooh…that’s only thirty percent.”

  “Dr. Hamilton is still overseeing that and preparing for the next trial, and I’m researching the explanation for that. Why does it affect some patients and not others? Is it the cancer itself? Or is it down to their unique cell structure? Their mRNA? There could be a thousand different factors, but I’m trying to narrow it down.”

  She kept fishing her hand into the basket to grab more fries. “You still call my dad that?”

  “What?”

  “Dr. Hamilton,” she said with a chuckle.

  “Oh yeah…it’s just a habit. He wants me to call him Deacon, but it’s weird.”

  “Why is it weird?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know. Because he’s my boss, I’m moving in with his daughter, he’s the most brilliant person I’ve ever met, he’s got a Nobel…a million reasons. He’s casual and doesn’t act like this world-renowned super genius, but…it’s just out of respect. I can’t help it.”

  “That’s sweet.”

  “He gets kinda ticked when I call him that, so I’m trying to stop. But whenever it’s third-person, I just can’t control it.”

  “My dad doesn’t let just anyone call him by his first name. He only grants it to certain colleagues.”

  “Really?”

  “Yeah. When he considers someone his equal professionally, he drops his title. So, he’s not as casual as he seems.”

  “Then that’s a great compliment.”

  She grabbed more fries. “My dad has a hard-on for you.”

  I released a restrained chuckle. “I wouldn’t put it like that.”

  “But he’s got great taste in men, so I don’t mind it.”

  “He does, doesn’t he?”

  She grinned before putting more fries into her mouth. “Yep.”

  Dr. Hamilton hired me to join his research facility and then hand-selected me to join his own research project. He changed my life—but that was only the beginning. He gave me everything that I was missing—the woman of my dreams and a family. I felt like one of the Hamiltons, when I did little to deserve it. “Did you tell him we’re moving in together?”

  “Not yet.” She drank her beer.

  “You think he’ll be weird about it?”

  She shook her head. “Nah.”

  “Your mom? Brothers?”

  “Dex moved in with Sicily before they got married, so unlikely.”

  “Your family is just so accepting, but I assumed there would be some threats here and there.”

  She rolled her eyes. “You’re right on the money. They were like that. Extremely.”

  “What’s different now?”

  “My brother wanted nothing to do with Mason, and then my dad couldn’t even have a direct conversation with me about it. The only person I could talk to was my mom because she kept it between us. It was like medieval times or something.”

  “Because they didn’t like him?”

  “No, not at all. My dad just didn’t want to meet a guy unless I intended to marry him, and Dex immediately disliked him because he wasn’t a super genius. Total bullshit. But anyway, that’s not the point. I told them they were treating me differently just because I’m a woman. They didn’t see it right away, but when they did, they backed off. So that’s why they’re chill about it now. My dad never had a problem involving himself in my brothers’ personal lives, meeting their girlfriends, nothing. Even if Mason hadn’t decided to be a dick, that relationship had no chance at success.”

  “I’m not going to pretend to be sad about that.”

  She gave another smile. “Me neither.”

  “You think he’ll be at your tournament?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t know. Didn’t even think about it.”

  “I hope he is.”

  “Why?”

  “So, I can make out with you and grab your ass in front of him.”

  She grabbed her glass and took another drink. “Didn’t realize you were the possessive type.”

  “I didn’t either, until you.”

  She dropped her gaze, her cheeks reddening slightly. She was not a shy person at all, but I could still make her warm with the things I said. Meant she was still crazy about me. “So, who gets to keep their place?” There were only a few fries left, but she grabbed each one, even if they were burned.

  “It really doesn’t make a difference to me.”

  “Well, you have an elevator that opens right into the living room.”

  “And your place is closer to the clinic.”

  “Psh. Doesn’t compete with the elevator.”

  I chuckled. “Then it sounds like you’re moving in.”

  “Well, hold on. What kind of mortgage are we talking about? Because I can’t afford to split the cost of a billion-dollar penthouse.”

  “I don’t think there’s a penthouse that’s ever sold for a billion dollars.”

  “You know what I mean. How much are we talking?”

  “Actually, I don’t have a mortgage.”

  She gave me a long stare. “You bought that shit in cash?”

  “Yes, that shit.” She grew up with billionaire parents, and she was so smart that she could fly a rocket to Mars, but she kept it so real.

  “Damn…”

  “So that eliminates that problem.”

  “Not really. I can’t just live there for free. I’ll split the property taxes with you.”

  “It feels weird allowing you to pay for property that I own exclusively.”

  “Whatever,” she said with a shrug. “I can’t just mooch off you. It’s not like I can’t afford to pay my share.”

  I really didn’t want her money, but I knew she would be deeply offended if I didn’t compromise on this. “Fine.”

  “Now, what should I do with my place?” />
  “I have a couple ideas.”

  “Alright, man who pays for shit with cash.” She ate another fry. “Let’s hear it.”

  “You could sell it and buy a small apartment complex or a duplex. Rent it out. Passive income.”

  “Hmm, I guess I could. I honestly haven’t given any thought to my retirement plans other than my IRA and all that boring stuff.”

  “Or you could just rent it out.”

  “You think anyone would rent that place fully furnished?”

  “This is Manhattan. I totally think that’s possible. They could cover your mortgage and probably leave you with enough to cover your portion of my place.”

  “True. And I wouldn’t have to sell off my stuff at a fraction of what I paid for it.”

  “That’s true too.”

  She fished into the empty basket then pouted her lips when she realized everything was in her stomach. “Ugh, I hate it when that happens.” She motioned for the waiter so she could pay the tab and we could get out of there.

  “Your place or mine?”

  “Yours, I guess. It’s gonna be home soon.”

  She worked on her laptop on the couch beside me, her own paperwork everywhere. The TV was on, showing the basketball game. She would work, drink her wine, and then scream at the TV when the ref made a bad call.

  She could definitely multitask.

  When it grew late, she closed her laptop and stowed everything in her bag. She was already in my t-shirt and ready for bed. “Do you care if I wash off my makeup and brush my teeth before we get our freak on? Because after we’re finished, I do not want to move.”

  “I’ll fuck you good either way.”

  She leaned over the couch and kissed me, a smile on her face. “That’s the most romantic thing I’ve ever heard.” She sauntered down the hallway and headed to my bedroom.

  I drank the last of her wine and then put all my stuff away too so I could grab it on my way out the door. When I rounded the corner and headed down the hallway, I caught her staring at a picture on the wall.

  I came to her side and followed her gaze.

  It was a picture of my family.

  My parents, my sister, and me.

  It was my graduation from Cambridge. I was in my robe, decorated in my medals and honors, towering over all of them with my arms around them all.

  She stared at it for a long time, her arms crossed over her chest. “Is that an old girlfriend?”

  “My sister.”

  She slowly turned to me, her eyebrows furrowed. “You said you didn’t have any siblings.”

  “Because I don’t.”

  The rest of her body pivoted toward me, solving the mystery instantly. “She passed away too?”

  I gave a nod.

  She sucked in a deep breath, her chest rising slowly, drawing it all in. Sorrow entered her gaze, the same sorrow I always carried, day in and day out. But she didn’t ask the question that was on her mind, didn’t broach the topic that I’d dismissed a long time ago. She turned her gaze back to the picture.

  I knew it was time.

  I had to tell her.

  “My family took a trip to visit me here in Manhattan. I was wrapped up in work at the time, so instead of picking them up from the airport like I should have, they took the subway. May 2nd…three years ago.”

  She turned back to me, her eyes shifting back and forth quickly, her mind working to solve the riddle I’d presented. It took her no time at all, and her entire expression changed, a flood of emotion hitting her so hard that her eyes immediately filled with tears. “No…”

  I found someone who loved me so much that she felt my pain when I felt it, felt my sorrow, felt every crack in my heart like it was on hers too. She carried the burden with me even when I didn’t have to explain the depth of my trauma, the depth of my loss.

  She moved into me, her arms wrapping around me, squeezing me tightly as she buried her face in my neck. She held on tightly, breathing hard, her tears sticking to my neck and rolling down to my chest.

  My arms locked around her, and I felt my own eyes water.

  Because it hurt me—every day.

  They were all buried in the cemetery here, far away from home, because a mass murderer decided to take the lives of the best people I’d ever known. Within a second, my entire life was snuffed out like a burning candle in a breeze. I was the last survivor of my family, the last person to carry my surname, and I couldn’t even make my own family to fill that hole. My ex and I had signed the divorce papers a week before it happened, so the loneliness was indescribable.

  “I’m…so…sorry.” Every word was diluted with tears, her voice cracking with each syllable.

  My hand rubbed her back, and I closed my eyes, holding on to the lifeline that made all of this so much easier.

  8

  Daisy

  “Everything okay?” Mom sat at the head of the table, watching me over her glass of wine, while Dad set the table and served dinner.

  I wanted to shrug off the question, but I didn’t have the heart. “No.”

  Dad stilled and looked at me. “What is it, sweetheart?” He set down the bowl then lowered himself into the chair across from me.

  I gave a slight shake of my head, unsure how else to express myself. “Atlas told me what happened to his family… Did you know?”

  Dad stilled like an animal that had been spotted, unsure if he should stay motionless or move. His answer emerged as a nod.

  “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “He asked me not to.”

  “How long have you known?”

  “Since before Father’s Day.”

  “That was months ago.”

  Mom reached her hand to mine and rested it on top, the compassion in her eyes as always.

  “Why would he not want me to know?”

  Dad rested his elbows on the table and rubbed his hands together. “You weren’t getting along at the time, and I think he just didn’t want your pity, or for you to start liking him for the wrong reason.”

  I still didn’t understand why he’d waited so long to tell me. We’d been together for months now. “I’m not mad or anything…just in shock. It’s been a couple days, and I’m still…overwhelmed.”

  “It’s heavy, honey.” Mom kept her hand on mine.

  I stared at her affection before I looked at my dad again. “Now I understand why you’ve…basically adopted him.”

  “That wasn’t why. At least, not initially. The first time he stepped into my office for an interview, I felt like I was speaking to a younger version of myself. A man on the cusp of greatness, a man determined to make the world a better place even though life has been so unkind to him. The attachment I feel toward him started in that moment. In the year he worked for me, I saw his brilliance firsthand, saw everything he was capable of. That was why I hand-selected him to work by my side. And in that time, I became more attached. It was like looking at myself thirty years ago. I definitely wanted to nurture him, to give him every asset he needed to find any kind of success he craved. I’ve been looking for the right person to take over when I retire, someone to carry the torch when my mind and body begin to fail. I’ve decided it’s him.”

  Wow. “Does he know this?”

  He nodded. “Yes. When he told me his father passed away, that was when I started to spend time with him outside of work. I knew exactly how he felt, had walked that path myself. I just didn’t want him to feel alone, like I’d felt alone many times. When I had Derek on my own, there were times I wanted to call and ask questions, but my dad wasn’t there. Atlas was resistant because he didn’t want my pity, but it wasn’t pity that drove me. It was more than that, a genuine affection. When I learned that he had no family at all, that the Subway Massacre had claimed their lives, that was when I really stepped it up. He became my adopted son without his consent. I imagine that his parents would be happy to know that he has me, and if that situation ever happened to my kids, I would hope that someone woul
d step in and do the same.”

  “Dad…”

  Mom pulled her hand away and watched my father, like she was falling in love with him all over again. “It’s crazy to think that you didn’t want to be a father, but now that’s your entire identity. You don’t know how to be anything else besides a father…”

  He looked down at the bowl of food and started to serve himself. “I’m not a father to anyone who needs it. Just the people I care about.”

  Mom started to serve herself too.

  For the first time in my life, I wasn’t hungry. “He lost his family tragically…and now he can’t make a family himself. God, that’s…fucking terrible. Dad, we’ve got to help him.”

  “You know I’ll do everything I can,” he said. “But science only goes so far.”

  The last few days had been spent in strained silence. Atlas and I spoke at the clinic, sticking to our patients, and after hours, we would have dinner and continue to work on the couch. Sex was off the table, as if neither one of us wanted it.

  I just needed some time to get over what he’d told me.

  “Atlas asked me to move in with him, and I said yes.”

  Dad stilled at the announcement.

  Mom immediately beamed, her smile brightening up the dining room. “What did I tell you…”

  “Yes, Ma. You were right.”

  Mom grinned. “Daisy Beaumont…sounds good.”

  Dad remained still, staring at me for a long time.

  I expected him to be happy about this, but he seemed undecided, like he didn’t know how to react. “Dad?”

  He didn’t say anything.

  “Um, I thought you would be thrilled about this.” He’d just gone on and on about loving Atlas like a son, basically.

  He set down his fork and didn’t touch his food. “You need to talk to him about our plan before you move in together.”

  “Why?”

  “Because he has the right to know.”

  “It won’t change anything.”