Claimed by the Boss Read Online Jenna Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 20415 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 102(@200wpm)___ 82(@250wpm)___ 68(@300wpm)
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I trusted Ethan. I thought he actually cared about me and had my best interests in mind, so I broke my lease on my apartment and put my faith in him. But as it turns out, Ethan is nothing more than another lying, manipulative man—maybe the worst I’ve ever run into.

I mean, what man swaps a girl’s birth control with sugar pills so he can get her pregnant? What even is the point of that? Is it just the world’s creepiest fetish? Has he tried to find a girl to have his babies and failed over and over? I mean, who knows?

What I can’t stop thinking now, though, is how many other girls he may have done it to.

I couldn’t sleep at all last night, and I’m still restless. I’ve tried lying on the bed to nap, but that didn’t work. I tried curling up on the couch to watch TV, and that didn’t work. I even tried lying out on the patio under the sun with a blanket, and that went nowhere either. The only idea I have left is to go on a long walk around the grounds to try and burn off this restless energy.

So, doing my best not to think about Ethan, the fact that I am two months pregnant, or that I completely let myself be backstabbed by a man again. A man I let myself fall in love with.

And as I wipe the tears from my eyes, I realize that that’s what hurts the most. Not that I let my guard down, not that I thought Ethan was a reliable enough basket to put all my eggs in, but that I also fell in love with him at the same time.

I fell in love with him, and he stabbed me in the back.

I fell in love with him, and now I’m paying for it.

He betrayed me.

I don’t know how he managed it—to lay beside me all those nights with his arms around me, looking into my eyes, holding me tight and convincing me that we were so perfect for each other, and then sliding the knife into my back without remorse.

But he did it. And now I’m slowly bleeding to death.

And now I’m going to have to raise this child growing inside me without a father, because there’s absolutely no way I’m going to allow him to be a role model.

I take a deep breath, lace up my shoes, and step out of my room into the hall, which is thankfully empty. I just am not in the mood to face any strangers at this moment—strangers with their prying questions or their pitying looks that very clearly say, “Oh, that poor girl, I wonder who broke her heart?”

I push the front door to the inn open and step outside into an overcast day. The clouds seem to fit my mood perfectly. I’m a swirling tornado of emotion. Anger, sadness, pain, even frustration with myself over how stupid I was for letting this happen.

The breeze is chilly, but I welcome it as I turn and take a start up the hill toward the trees. I’m about halfway up when I feel something behind me. A sensation that I can’t explain, but I know.

Ethan is behind me.

I stop in my tracks and hear the sound of a footstep—a boot crunching the grass.

My heart skips a beat. Adrenaline pours through me. I instantly spin around to find him standing there facing me, a look on his face that I can’t quite read.

“Hey,” he says flatly. “Mya, listen, I—”

“How did you find me?” I ask, cutting him off. “You have people following me now? You stalking me yourself?”

“Of course not,” he replies firmly. “I remember you told me about this place when you were telling me about when you first left home. I thought you might have come here while you find a new apartment. I guess I was right.”

I hate the fact that part of me actually is happy to see him.

I hate the fact that my body still responds the way it used to when I see him standing there.

I hate the fact that I still find him as handsome as ever.

“Why did you do it?” I’m barely able to choke the words out, as I can feel tears behind them. But I refuse to cry in front of him. That’s just not going to happen. “Tell me why! Are you just crazy? How many other girls have you done this with?”

“None!” he exclaims, stepping closer. I instinctively back away. “None, Mya, are you—there is no way I would do what I did with you with any other girls. Mya, I was so conflicted to do what I did even with you!”

“Bullshit!” I scream. I want to cry. But I won’t. I will not.

“Mya, I thought so hard before I did what I did,” Ethan says, his voice calmer, softer. “And I did it because…because I knew it was the only way you would ever be with me and the only way you would ever admit that you loved me.”


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