Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
“And you’re a brat.” I motion to the elevators. “Want to continue to trade insults or do you want to go up?”
I can actually see her weighing her options before she turns and marches toward the door, every inch of her as regal as a queen. It’s only then that I realize she’s walking in this fucking place with bare feet.
I scoop her up, ignoring her curses, and move quickly to the elevator. Once we’re inside, I set her on her feet.
She tries to punch me in the throat.
I laugh as I catch her fist. I can’t help it. The woman never ceases to fight when she should flee, or to mouth off when she should shut up. True to form, she gives a snarl worthy of any predator. “Touch me again and I’ll rip your fucking throat out.”
So it’ll be like that, will it?
I use my hold on her hand to yank her against my chest and then I band an arm across her lower back. She fights me, but there’s no winning. Not with our size difference. Not when I’m so much stronger.
I wait for that realization to wash over her, for her to go still. It takes her longer to stop fighting than most, and even then she glares up at me as if I’m a bug she’d like to squash.
“You have the ability to stop this. One little word, Jasmine, and the game ends. That’s all it’s ever taken with us.”
She clamps her mouth shut, though her anger doesn’t appear to abate.
“Now that we have that settled …” The elevator doors open and I walk her backwards into my penthouse. I wait for the doors to shut behind me, closing off the exit unless one has the key, and then I release her.
She takes several large steps back. Though I can tell she wants to rip another strip off me, her curiosity gets the better of her. Jasmine turns in a slow circle. I follow her gaze, seeing the place through her filter. Wide open space with luxurious furniture, the color scheme minimalist in its extreme. Black furniture. White walls and pale wooden floors. The windows stretch the entire length of the penthouse, going from room to room, offering a view of Carver City.
That’s where she heads.
I follow, keeping a few steps back, not bothering to turn on the lights other than the lamp next to the elevator. She reaches up, but stops before she touches the glass. “It’s so big.”
It’s really not. Carver City isn’t even in the top twenty of the largest cities in the country, but Jasmine doesn’t care about that shit. This is the widest world she’s ever experienced.
I can use that.
I’m just bastard enough to do it.
“Let’s discuss terms.”
She turns to face me slowly, as if it’s a challenge to drag herself away from the view. “I was under the impression that terms were set when you growled that I was yours and then threw me over your shoulder like a piece of meat.”
Fair point, but not one I’ll admit. “Come now, Jasmine. You know it’s not as simple as that. Didn’t your father teach you anything?” A low blow, but it’s imperative that this plays out the way I need it to.
She doesn’t flinch. Of course she doesn’t. There’s very little I can say to her that her hated father hasn’t already driven into her head. I’ve seen the way he talks to his daughter, as if she’s shit on the bottom of his shoe. Good only for bargaining away her womb and legacy to the highest bidder.
Well, not the highest bidder. If he had, we wouldn’t be in this situation to begin with.
She props her hands on her generous hips. “You have terms? Fine. I’m listening.”
“You will not leave this building without permission. The penthouse and the floor below it are yours, but nowhere else.”
Her eyes flashed. “So I’ve traded one cage for another. Wonderful. Just what I always wanted.”
I ignore that. “Tomorrow, we’ll see about you earning some clothes.”
“Earn some clothes.” Her jaw drops, but she recovers quickly. Jasmine shakes her head. “No. I’m not playing these games with you.” She presses her lips together and then goes in for the kill. “You’re even worse than he is.”
No need to clarify which he she means. There was only ever one in her life. “He sold you to a monster.”
“I don’t think you should be throwing stones about monsters. And you were only too happy to jump in and use that to your advantage. Two sides of the exact same coin.” She glares. “I’m not interested in playing.”
I should have better control, should be able to stem the rising tide of anger within me. I didn’t expect her to be grateful—I’m not delusional—but this is bullshit. “If one monster is just as good as other, would you rather I deliver you to Ali? I doubt he’ll care that you’re damaged goods as long as his end goal is achieved. He may even thank me for breaking you in, considering the shit he’s into. ”