Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94457 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
As soon as I’m out of sight, I dart down the hallway and head back the way I came. Since most of the guests remain at the auction to socialize, I shouldn’t have to worry about running into anyone else. I only make it to a set of stairs when a hand lands on my shoulder.
Whirling around, I see Matteo grinning down at me. “Were you going somewhere?”
I’ve put myself in a bad situation here, and I’m not sure how I’m going to get out of it. Matteo is huge, twice my size and weight. I have no weapon and no way to protect myself.
“Don’t fuck with me, Matteo.”
“But that’s what I plan to do.”
“I swear you won’t like what happens if you don’t leave me alone,” I warn, still trying to come up with a plan in my mind. I attempt to evade him, but he grabs me by the shoulder, fisting the material of my dress. The sound of ripping fabric fills my ears, and I look down at my shoulder to find the dress half clinging to life. It’s in that split second that Matteo invades my space further, his eyes gleam with resentment, and instead of responding, he pulls his fist back and punches me in the eye.
Pain spears the side of my face, and for half a second, I’m too shocked to even react.
Then something inside me snaps, and I remember that I have to save myself. Matteo grabs me by the arm and starts tugging me down the hall.
“If you had just laid down and taken my cock like the slut you are, maybe you wouldn’t have gotten hit.”
There is no justification for what he just did, and I’m not going to lie down and be stepped on. I’m not a doormat. I’m a fucking queen. I let him drag me down the hall for a few steps before I swing my body around and knee him in his balls as hard as I can. His grip on my arm disappears as he moves to cradle his junk. I don’t wait. I spin around and run away from him as fast as I can.
“You fucking bitch. I’m gonna kill you for this,” he groans behind me.
My chest is heaving, and my heart thunders against my ribs as I rush down the hall, wanting to put as much distance between us as I can. In my haste to return to the dorms, with one eye half swollen shut, I fail to notice a looming figure ahead and run headfirst into him. God, no, I do not need any more problems tonight.
“I’m glad I ran into you. Your date for the evening isn’t over yet.” Xander Rossi’s voice implodes around me, and I take a shuddering step backward. He looks at my face but doesn’t even blink or acknowledge my swelling eye. He doesn’t care. I’m a means to an end for him. The enemy’s daughter.
But I made the choice tonight to save myself, to fight back, even just a little. The words my father spoke to me the other day enter my mind.
I put as much conviction as I can muster into my next sentence. “I know it was you, and if you don’t let me go, I’ll tell Q.” I have no idea what I am referring to, but the shocked expression Xander gives me is enough to keep me from admitting that out loud.
Xander stands a little taller, and I do the same, meeting his gaze head-on. I pray he doesn’t realize I’m bluffing and have no idea what I am talking about.
“Good evening, Aspen. I’ll be seeing you soon.”
I shiver at the meaning behind those words, but I don’t say anything. Like a mouse, I scurry past him, only stopping once I reach my room. Once inside, I kick my shoes off, fall to my knees, and start sobbing.
31
QUINTON
Aspen excuses herself, claiming she needs to use the restroom. I know it’s nothing but a shit excuse to escape the party. Matteo leaves a few minutes later, and I have to forcefully restrain myself from going after the fucker. I’m tempted to go back to my dorm and crash for the night, but there’s this niggling in the back of my mind that tells me to check on Aspen first.
I’m still in my tux, but I’ve made a habit of keeping Aspen’s room key on me at all times, even today. I pull the card out of my pocket and swipe it at her door. It unlocks with a low beep, and I push into her room.
Aspen is on the bed, curled up in a fetal position, facing away from me. She is still wearing the red dress, her back mostly exposed with her blanket only partly covering her body. Her shoulders are shaking, and quiet sobs meet my ears. She is crying, which has me worried. She hardly ever cries. As a matter of fact, I’ve only seen her cry once.