Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 64628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64628 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 259(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
She moves her head, so I can’t see her face.
I didn’t mean to say it. Or did I? Maybe I was on a fuck high. Maybe she was my high.
She stands, looking down between her legs and pulls on her dress. Dressing faster than I usually do to flee.
“Barbie.”
“You’ll be with her on Monday at school. Won’t you?”
I nod my head. No point in lying to Saskia about it. Livia and I... well, I don’t even know how to describe it. But it’s a safer option than Barbie and me. That much I do know.
“And you’ll be with Stiles,” I say, sitting up on the bed.
She looks down at it, and so do I. There’s a bit of red, but that doesn’t matter. None of it does. Just this moment. Her running away from me. Or should I force her to stay to get extra time with her? I easily could make her stay. I bought her after all.
But I won’t.
“Yeah, Stiles.” She picks up her bag, touches the door then looks back to me.
“You can have your money back.”
Shaking my head. “No. It’s yours. Keep it.”
She shrugs her shoulders. “I would, thank you, but I won’t.”
Then she walks away, leaving me naked on the bed with her taste on my lips and her pussy on my cock.
“WHERE IS THE FUCKING money, son?” my father yells at me as I sit at the dining room table with my food in front of me. He stands when I don’t answer, pushing his seat backward. It scrapes so hard then falls to the floor.
“What money?” Picking at my vegetables on my plate, I push them around looking up at him.
“You took almost half a million out of the fucking bank. Where the fuck is it?”
Shrugging my shoulders, I place a piece of broccoli in my mouth. “You want me to search for it?” Swallowing, I know he will look, and without a doubt, he’ll find where it went. He’ll have those dollars traced before I can even move a muscle.
“I spent it.”
“You spent it?” He mocks me. “On. Fucking. What?”
“None of your business.”
He laughs, and it’s a full-on insult laugh. “It is my fucking business.”
“I’m almost eighteen, it’s not.”
“It. Fucking. Is,” he seethes at me.
Slamming my hands down on the table, I stand to turn and face him. I’m now the same height as my father. Perhaps even a tad taller.
“That money was mine! I got it from Mom. Not you. You have no fucking say how I spend it.”
He rubs his jaw as I try to control my temper. Quinn walks in, hearing me yelling, and looks at both of us.
“Boss...” is all he says, and my father waves his hand at him to go away. He does so without argument. My father steps up close to me, our faces almost touching.
“You ever fucking do anything so reckless again with that much money, you won’t get any fucking businesses. Do you hear me, boy?”
“You can shove them up your fucking ass.”
I see it before it comes.
I knew it was coming.
I basically asked for it.
His fist connects with my jaw, sending me back a step. I laugh at him, shaking it off and brushing my fingers over my jaw. Then I turn to him, instantly going silent and hitting him straight back. Exactly where he hit me. He goes back a step, too. Shakes his head and stands tall facing me.
“It was that little blonde, wasn’t it?”
Again. I hit him again. My hand now aching, along with my jaw. He doesn’t hit me back this time, but he watches for my reaction.
“So it is.” He shakes his head, picking up his seat, then sitting down on it at the table.
“You know nothing,” I seethe at him.
“I do. Did you know I was in the same place as you once? I loved another but knew your mother was the better choice. She wouldn’t run to the police, she wouldn’t turn me in when they came knocking. She was loyal until the affection ran dry and all she had left was you.”
“You want me to do the same thing,” I say to him, stepping up to the table, my hands touching it.
He nods his head. “I do, and you should. Play with the blonde, fine. But don’t marry the blonde. You marry that brunette. She’s your safer option. You have no choice in the matter, son.”
“Who are you to tell me my safest choice? You have no voice in the matter.”
He smirks at me. “Because I’ve been doing this longer than you. I realize you want to think with your heart. Don’t. Think with your head. The brunette is safer. More logical. Right. She comes from a good family. She will be a lawyer. You won’t be suspected when you take it all from me. Instead, you’ll be respected.” He says it as if it’s something I should want. As if it means everything in the world to me. I don’t want that part of his business, I don’t want any part of it.