There was no way he was going to make her feel bad for doing what 99 percent of humans would’ve done in her shoes. However, she knew that had hurt Ryder. The look on his face that night, and even now while he watched her with hope, told her she had wounded him severely. “Con,” Ryder said, his voice holding a warning. Kinsey wondered what it was Ryder didn’t want Con to say to her. There was no emotion on Con’s face. Even his black eyes seemed to see right through her. It was contradictory to the golden waves of his hair that gave the impression of a relaxed and cheerful man, which was also in direct contrast to the sharp black suit he wore that looked as if it cost more than her entire wardrobe. “Let him say whatever he needs to,” Kinsey told Ryder. “He is King of Kings, after all.” Con’s eyes narrowed for a fraction of a second, but it was enough that Kinsey saw it. She felt she’d gained a small victory over him. She should’ve known that no one got anything on Con for long.
