Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 318(@250wpm)___ 265(@300wpm)
He leans back in his chair, steepling his fingers like some bargain-bin Bond villain.
“Is that any way to talk to your boss, Iris? I’d think you’d show a little more...appreciation for all I’ve done for you.”
I bark out a laugh, crossing my arms. “Appreciation? For what, exactly? Constantly undermining me in front of clients? Treating me like your personal plaything? Yeah, I’m just overflowing with fucking gratitude over here.”
He stands abruptly, chair screeching against the floor.
In two strides he’s right in front of me, invading my space.
I force myself to stand my ground, tilting my chin up defiantly.
“You ungrateful bitch,” he sneers, breath hot on my face. “I gave you a fucking job when no one else would take a chance on you. I put a roof over your head. And this is how you repay me?”
“Oh, cry me a river,” I scoff, rolling my eyes. “You gave me a job so you could keep me under your thumb. The apartment was just another way to control me. Well, guess what? I’m done being your little puppet.”
His face contorts with rage and his hand shoots out, wrapping around my throat.
I gasp as he slams me back against the wall, spots dancing in my vision.
“You’re nothing without me, you hear me?” he growls, fingers tightening. “Nothing but a trashy little gutter rat. No one else will ever want you.”
Rage and adrenaline surge through my veins.
I bring my knee up sharply, slamming it into his groin.
He doubles over with a grunt and I shove him away, sending him stumbling back.
“Fuck you, Lyon,” I rasp out, massaging my bruised throat. “I’m so fucking done with your abuse and your bullshit. I quit. Good luck finding another idiot willing to put up with you.”
I’m furious and I can’t resist muttering under my breath as I go by. “I hope you get shot on one of your runs for the club, you abusive piece of shit.”
It’s petty and meaningless, I know.
But it’s the only bit of retaliation I have left.
My life is in shambles, my future uncertain.
All I can do now is pick up the pieces and try to start over.
Somehow, some way, I’ll claw my way back to the top.
And when I do, I’ll make damn sure Lyon regrets the day he ever crossed me.
This isn't the end of my story. It's just the beginning of a new chapter.
Turning on my heel, I stalk out of the office, slamming the door behind me.
I'm shaking as I gather up my supplies, shoving them haphazardly into my bag.
Rosa’s business card feels like it’s burning a hole in my pocket.
Satin Dreams.
My ticket out of this nightmare.
I just pray I’m not jumping from the frying pan straight into the fire.
But hell, it can’t possibly be worse than this.
With one last look around the shop, I shoulder my bag and head for the door.
Mysterious Ink and Lyon are officially in my rearview.
It’s time to see what the future holds.
I push the door open, blinking against the harsh Montana weather.
As I head for my car, I can't help but wonder if I’ve just made the biggest mistake of my life.
As I climb into my car, my tires squeal as I peel out of the parking lot, my heart pounding in my chest.
I never look back at Mysterious Ink, the place where my naive dreams of true love and an easy life shattered like so much broken glass.
The sun’s starting to set as I drive away, casting long shadows over the city.
It’s a new beginning, a chance to start fresh.
And I take comfort in the fact that, no matter what the future holds, it can’t possibly be as crazy as the past few weeks have been.
As I merge onto the freeway, I turn up the radio and sing along to the defiant anthem blaring through the speakers.
Tears of rage and frustration prick at the corners of my eyes but I blink them back fiercely.
I can’t believe I’m fucking crying right now.
I know Lyon…if I didn’t quit he was going to fire me.
God, I can’t believe how this day has gone.
I pull up to Allegra's house, gravel crunching under the tires as I park my beat-up Honda out front.
Grabbing my duffel bag of tattooing supplies and a garbage bag with my clothes, I head for the front door, anxiety and anger still coursing through my veins.
As I reach for the doorknob, it swings open.
I’m greeted by a sight that makes my heart skip a beat—Viper. All 6'4" of dark, dangerous, sinfully sexy billionaire, filling the doorway with his broad shoulders and piercing gaze.
“Iris.” His deep voice rolls over me like honey. “I wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”
I brush past him, not trusting myself to speak without either screaming or bursting into tears.
I drop my bags on the floor with a thud.
“Yeah, well, plans change,” I mutter, running a hand through my hair. “I quit the tattoo shop.”