Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 129998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
I can’t help but laugh. This incredible man before me is always so put together, so strong, and ready to face down the world but with me standing in his way, he’d happily shove a dildo up his ass just to make me happy.
Fuck. Maybe I do love him. What other man would do that for me?
“It’s okay,” I laugh. “I’m more than happy to live the rest of my life without witnessing you putting a dildo up your ass, but I have to admit, Milo has a point. Ass play is nothing to frown upon.” His brow raises, more than into the conversation again.
“Ewwwww,” Casey says from the door with her mother and bitchy twin sister following her through with bags upon bags of shopping dangling from their fingers. “Please tell me that I didn’t just hear that.”
Colton laughs, sitting up on the couch. “You better fucking believe it.”
Casey scrunches up her face and I laugh it off as I peel myself off the couch and start getting back to work, except I should have known it wouldn't be that easy. “What have I told you about wearing your uniform?” Laurelle spits at me.
“And what have I told you?” I throw back at her. “The second Colton asks me to put a uniform on, I’d happily do it. Until then, screw you.”
She steps forward, preparing to hit me because she sure as hell hasn’t learned any new moves.
“MOTHER,” Colton’s deep roar tears through the living room. “Lay one fucking hand on her and the world will know that you spent over six million dollars on male escorts.”
The boys behind us laugh in shock as Casey and Cora’s mouths drop in disgust. “You wouldn’t,” she seethes toward her son.
“Fucking try me.”
Laurelle strides past me as though I've completely been forgotten. She walks down the three steps into the sunken living room and steps in front of her son, her six-inch heels putting her nearly eye to eye with him. “It’s about time you and I have a little talk.”
“Yeah, I think so,” Colton says. “It’s about time that you pack up your shit and get the fuck out of my house. I'm done with your bullshit games. You come in here and insult my girlfriend every chance you get, you willingly allowed Melissa Carter into my home—knowing damn well that her son is a rapist—and then you completely embarrass the Carrington name in front of every investor and partner of Carrington Incorporated by throwing yourself at my CFO. I’m done and so are you. I’m not fucking stupid, Mom. After you lit my father’s casket on fire, your motives became pretty fucking clear and I’m not going to stand back and allow you to try to bring down Carrington Incorporated. Dad worked too fucking hard and so have I.”
“Your father was a monster. How could you take his side?”
“I’m not taking his side. I'm making my own goddamn side. My father was a monster, but you’re turning out just like him and you’re doing the same to Cora. At least Casey has some sort of spine and can stand on her own.”
Cora sucks in a broken gasp and for the slightest second, I feel bad for her, but the glare that comes straight after pulls me back in line. She steps up beside her mother. “You’re a real prick, you know that? How dare you say that about me.”
“How could I not?” he throws back at her. “Have you looked at yourself in a mirror recently? You’re a spoiled brat. I’ve been watching you, Cora and you haven’t got a redeeming quality about yourself. You’re materialistic and the way you’re going now, you’re going to end up married to a rich businessman on his deathbed with your mother still dipping into your pockets, both of you absolutely broke.”
“You’re not going to get away with this,” Laurelle hisses as the rest of us watch on like it’s an award-winning daytime drama.
“I already have, mother. Harrison was given the order to start collecting your stuff this morning. Your Uber will be here in an hour to take you back to the airport.”
“Uber?” she shrieks in horror. “Airport? I don’t ride in Ubers and I sure as hell don’t fly on commercial airplanes. I have my own car and my own jet but they will not be needed because I won’t be going anywhere.”
“No,” Colton corrects. “I own your car and I own the jet which your access was cut to the second you embarrassed Carrington Incorporated last night. Now, you have an hour to pack the rest of your things, after that, you’ll be considered trespassing and I’ll have no other option but to call the police and have you escorted off the premises, and for the record,” he says, walking back toward the couch for his mic drop moment. “I have a press meeting scheduled in an hour. It’d be a real shame if they were to witness you being taken out of here in cuffs.”