Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
The purple lilac lighting sets the perfect tone. There are groups of people scattered around the room, but as soon as Ash and I enter, people stop.
Pause.
We’re the only women in the room who aren’t stripping on a pole or being paid to be here to fuck entitled rich men while their wives are tucked in bed at home. Fuck that. I will never be that wife. I wasn’t created to be a trophy, I’m the product of the fucking prize.
“Vodka on the rocks,” I say to the bartender who wears a royal blue and white suit to perfection.
He nods, sliding a glass across the counter, just as arms wrap around my waist.
I take a sip, turning to face Devon.
He chuckles devilishly, his lips skimming mine. “You’re in so much trouble.”
“I am?” I ask innocently, tilting my head.
His eyes fall down my body, pausing every two seconds. “So much fucking trouble.”
“Hmmm, guess there’s no point behaving then if I’m already in trouble.” I shoot back the rest of my drink before pushing Devon away from the center of his chest. Moving through the swarm of people, I find my chair. The same chair I sat on not long ago with Bryant underneath me.
Tonight he’s not here.
Last night, he put his dick inside someone who wasn’t his.
And tomorrow, he would probably announce to the world that he’s remarrying.
A waiter passes by, and I bring my hands out to her. She’s young. Probably Ash’s age. “I need you to bring me a bottle of Cristal.”
The young brunette nods her head. “Okay, Mrs. Royal. Be right back.” Before I can ask her how she knows who I am, she’s gone.
“Fuck my life.” I lean back on the chair, just as Devon makes his way to me, shirtless with jeans on. “Double fuck.”
He grins down at me. “Are you just going to sit there and be bitter?” He nudges his head up to a corner in the room, before leaning in closer, his lips against my ear. “Or are you going to put on a show for your soon-to-be-ex-husband?”
Just as he leans back, the waiter is back with my bottle of Cristal. I bring the rim to my lips, sucking down the bubbly liquid while keeping my eyes locked on Devon. I can feel the alcohol pulsing through my veins, releasing all of my worries. Standing, I run the palm of my hand over Devon’s chest, and then down, until I’m at his crotch.
I squeeze. “One, me fucking you will be what Bryant expects me to do, and I don’t much like being predictable, and two?” I release him and step backward. “Your music sucks. Where’s the DJ?”
Devon flinches at my words. He’s hurt. Good. As far as I see it, he and Bryant are a package deal. He pledged his loyalty to Bryant while vowing his love for me. All that did was make him look inconsistent.
Before he can answer, I’m pushing my way through bodies as I make my way to the small DJ booth on the other side of the room.
The young guy behind the deck sees me and grins.
I lean over his turntable. “Play some other shit. This isn’t Devon’s party…” I smirk, running my finger down his velvet cheek, before scraping my nail over the rim of his lips. He’s hot. He’s young, but his boyish features and soft baby skin is doing things to me right now and who am I to turn down a feeling other than depression.
I push the finger that wears my wedding ring into his mouth while pulling out my phone. “The Mystic” by Adam Jensen starts playing as I hit the red button. I record my wedding finger between his supple lips, the multi-million-dollar diamond glistening against the flashlight. I slip my finger out and flip the camera to forward-facing, sucking the same finger into my mouth all while flipping him off.
I open up a message to Bryant and upload the video with a caption:
Fuck you.
“Better?” the young DJ yells, leaning into me.
I shrug. “It’ll do.” Spinning around, with the room circling with me, I make my way onto the dance floor. Squeezing my eyes closed, I try to keep down emotions that threaten to pour out of me. When I open them again, I find Ash in the DJ booth talking to the young guy and waving at me with a cheesy smile. She’s dripping in sweat with a big smile stretched over her face. She’s having fun. Not a problem in the world. To live amongst the mundane and not know about all the things that go bump in the night.
The song remixes into “Rodeo” by Kane Brown and I flip my hair in a circle, lost in the music. The soft tune, seductive and hopeful. I roll my body against the empty space in the room, trapped in my own thoughts and world. Lost in the mystic feel of the party. The strippers dancing against the poles, couples having sex in the corners, famous people snorting coke in the back.