A Divided Heart Read Online Alessandra Torre

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Suspense Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 97525 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 488(@200wpm)___ 390(@250wpm)___ 325(@300wpm)
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"I find it interesting for you to know so much about her intentions."

"You know me, Brant. I have nothing but your best interests in mind. Trust me when I say to let whatever happened last night be the end of it. You don't need a relationship and need to stay away from this woman. Next time you want to get your rocks off, let me call the service."

With a foot on the desk leg, he leaned back. "You realize how ridiculous it is for you to order me whores. Most maternal figures would be happy to see me taking out a respectable woman."

"Your mother would want this. Trust me."

He frowned. “I don't understand you half of the time."

She smiled at him with a hint of sadness. "Trust me, Brant. I could say the same about you."

Chapter 5

I woke up alone, Brant leaving the bed at some point during the night. I wondered briefly how he got home.

It was odd, that he had snuck out of bed in the middle of the night. Maybe that was the modus operandi with prostitutes.

I didn't like it. The sex had certainly been stay-until-the-next-morning-worthy to me. More than that, it had been incredible. Sitting up, I reached for my phone and checked my notifications.

No missed calls. 11:12 AM.

I rolled out of bed.

I ran along the surf, my tennis shoes squishing with salt water, the give of sand beneath my soles encouraging as I felt the muscles respond, jumping into action as I pounded down the beach. I increased my speed as my house came into view, the finish line in sight. I was wheezing when I came to a stop, my finger trembling as I stopped the timer on my watch. The burn of my chest matched the scream of my calves and the endorphin high made it all worthwhile. I forced myself to walk forward and my heartbeat calmed at the leisurely pace.

Two miles. Shorter than yesterday but at a faster pace. I glanced at my watch, at the frozen stopwatch there. 15:04. I cleared it, the time returning to the display, and started the uphill climb toward my pool deck, where a bench and shower station waited. There was a strange woman standing inside my gate and I paused at the sight of her—her rigid posture bringing back the memory of every prep school headmistress I’d ever had. I eyed her warily and continued forward.

"Is there something I can help you with?" I opened the gate to the pool deck. How had she gotten back here? I glanced toward the house, wondering if I had left the side gate unlocked.

Living on the beach occasionally brought trespassers onto my property, but this was something else, and I tried to place her as I sat on my bench and worked off my sandy sneakers. She looked familiar. Maybe the neighborhood association? Or one of my charity boards?

"Layana Fairmont, I assume."

I nodded. "That's me."

Whoever she was, we were currently a lesson in contrast. My skin was wet from ocean spray and sweat, and barely covered by a turquoise sports bra and spandex shorts. This woman wore a burgundy pants suit, a white turtleneck peeking out from her jacket. I had drops of sweat versus her pearl necklace. My wild brunette ringlets were barely contained by a headband and elastic, while her coiffed updo was barely shuddering in the strong wind.

I stood, my breathing now under control. "And you are?"

“I’m Jillian Sharp." She started to hold out a hand, her lips pursed, eyes sweeping over me, but then thought better of it, choosing to primly nod instead, as if she was the Queen of England and I should curtsy.

Jillian Sharp. My mind worked in overdrive as I swiped away a bead of sweat. So that's how I recognized her. She was the CFO of BSX, Brant's digital conglomerate, and the face of the company. She conducted all of the news conferences, interviews, and led their board of directors.

"I spoke to Brant this morning. He mentioned your little..."--she sniffed in a way I took to be disapproving--"meeting last night."

The polite thing to do would be to invite her in, but I didn't like her tone, or the sour look on her face. I decided to let her stand there. "And?"

She glanced around. “Maybe I should come in? This is, after all, a personal matter.” She sniffed again.

“Sure.” I finished peeling off my sweaty socks and stuffed them inside my shoes, then tucked them under the bench. “You've already trespassed into my backyard, might as well bring you inside my home." I reached for the shower’s hose and washed down my feet, taking my time as she waited. Normally, in the privacy of the outdoor shower, I would have stripped. Scrubbed the sweat off my body and enjoyed the hot water on my tired muscles. That would have to wait, and my irritation at her intrusion grew as I walked around the edge of the pool and unlocked and opened the back door.


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