Total pages in book: 115
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107262 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 536(@200wpm)___ 429(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
“When will it end, Raven? At what point will you feel like you’ve made it on your own and be proud to stand at my side? After all, you just had a seven-figure day with zero input or assistance from me. Is that not a sign to you and everyone else that I have nothing to do with your success? That it’s all you, all yours?” I swallow thickly. “Or will you forever be so worried about what everyone else thinks?” I wave a hand, gesturing to the world at large.
“Dylan, I—"
“I think you have some thinking to do, Darling. You seem to be under the incorrect assumption that there is a power imbalance between us in which you are the lesser party. To be clear, that only exists in your mind. To me, to everyone else, they can see that I’m so far gone for you that I would destroy the world for you. I would destroy myself for you.”
I grit my teeth, the words spat out, wrenched from me without consideration, simply pouring forth from my soul with violent force. Raven looks like I’ve struck her. Honestly, my words probably did hit with painful impact, but it can’t be helped. We have to move past this if we’re ever going to move forward, and I want that with Raven.
I want her desperately. Loudly. Completely.
“I’m gonna go,” Raven whispers, her eyes filling with tears.
Fuck.
“Raven, wait,” I start and reach out to her, but it’s too late.
“Don’t come after me,” she warns, and although I want to, chasing her down in the office is the last thing she wants. She doesn’t want to go public.
She spins and virtually sprints from my office, leaving me standing here, lost to what just happened.
Fuck.
CHAPTER 27
RAVEN
Ilasted all of an hour before I texted Dylan, and he told me his driver would come around to bring me to his apartment. Riding in the back, I twiddle my fingers, wondering how stupid I must look. “Vince?”
From up front, Vince’s eyes cut to me. “Yes, Miss Hill?”
“Be honest with me. What do you think of Dylan and me?”
Vince clears his throat and then plays with the knot of his tie at the red light. I’ve barely spoken to him, apart from polite greetings and asking how his day is. He’s a private man. But he’s seen Dylan and me in the back of this car more than a dozen times now. And I know he’s been Dylan’s driver for years before me.
“What do you mean, Miss Hill?” he asks.
“Am I being foolish, sleeping with him and risking the entire firm finding out?”
Vince relaxes slightly, shaking his head and driving forward as the light turns green. “Miss Hill, I’ve been a driver for thirty years, starting with a taxi that I’d cruise around the Square at night, picking up tourists and barflies and more, taking them wherever they wanted. I’ve been a chauffeur, both rental and, for the past few years, on call for Mr. Sharpe. All that to say, there have been a fair number of people in my backseat, so I know what I’m talking about.” He glances in the rearview mirror, making sure I understand he’s an expert as far as he’s concerned. “Mr. Sharpe barely smiled, barely spoke in this car unless it was a business call.” He swallows and then tells me, “I used to tell my wife he needs a partner. Although I’d never tell him, and this stays between the two of us, right?” he asks, and his eyes search for mine in the rearview mirror.
“Of course,” I answer him.
“You are a remarkable young woman, one who has made him a happy man for the first time in… well, as long as I’ve known him. And sometimes, we do things for people we care about that might seem stupid to people who don’t understand the whole situation. Trust me. My wife could tell you stories.”
I take a moment to embrace Vince’s advice.
“It sounds like you think very highly of him,” I answer, and I don’t expect his response.
“I spent my twenty-fifth wedding anniversary in the Bahamas because of him,” Vince explains, “and my son has a scholarship waiting for him that Mr. Sharpe doesn’t know I know about. That’s the sort of man he is.” His eyes find mine in the rearview again. “He’s a good man, and I think the two of you make for a beautiful couple. We’re almost there.”
Vince drops me off with a ‘Good luck, Miss Hill’, and I go upstairs on weak legs, where Dylan’s waiting for me in his living room. Crossing the floor, I force myself to look him in the eyes, wanting to make him understand. “Dylan.”
“Darling,” he answers, his voice deep and the cadence doing something sinful to me.
We always start with a greeting, it seems, but hearing his name for me helps. I sit down on the couch, angled toward him but on another piece of furniture. My nerves flutter through me, and I can barely sit still.