Mr Garcia Read Online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 163475 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 817(@200wpm)___ 654(@250wpm)___ 545(@300wpm)
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My eyes fill with tears.

“You had sex with April?” Brandon frowns.

“Yes.”

I let out an audible gasp of horror.

“She was playing both of us,” Sebastian whispers.

I screw up my face in tears. “No, I wasn’t.”

Betrayal floods my soul.

Sebastian’s cold eyes hold mine. “Get out of my house, you lying whore.” He steps forward. “Go near my son again and see what fucking happens to you.”

What the fuck?

Shame fills my every cell, and I sob out loud at his hurtful words.

“Get the hell out of my house!” he shouts at the top of his voice, as he loses control.

I turn and stumble. If he hit me with a physical blow, it would have been less painful.

I need to get away from him.

I can hardly see from the tears streaming down my face. I stumble out the front door and look around. It’s dark and starting to rain. I have no idea where to go.

I scurry around to the side of the house and stand up against the wall, hiding. I don’t want to see them… either of them.

“Get out of my house, you lying whore.”

I slap my hand over my mouth to quieten my sobs.

“April.” Brandon comes running out of the house, and I press myself further against the wall. “April!” he calls in the rain. “Where are you?”

Sebastian walks out after him onto the front lawn.

“What the fuck have you done?” Brandon turns and cries.

“She’s been lying to both of us.”

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Yes, I do.”

“I can’t believe you slept with her!” Brandon cries.

Silence.

Pain lances through my chest.

“Come inside,” Sebastian says.

“I love her,” Brandon cries.

“I know.”

“You’ve ruined everything!”

“She’s not the girl for you. I’m sorry, but I could never lie to you, and I could never keep a secret like that from you. I love you too much.”

My head rests back against the bricks. The rain is beginning to fall harder now, and I taste hot, salty tears on my lips.

What about me?

This is it for us. . . there’s no coming back from this.

He told his son that I’m a prostitute.

My chest tightens. I knew it. I knew it was too good to be true.

“I hate you!” Brandon cries.

“Come inside and hate me.”

Silence.

“Buddy, come on. Inside.”

I’m overcome with shame. I’ve never felt so abandoned in my life.

“Where did she go?” Brandon asks. “April!” he calls out.

The front door slams shut, and I put my head into my hands, crying in silence.

Sebastian walks out to the street and looks one way and then the other. He drops his head and pushes his hands into his trouser pockets. He stands in the rain for an extended time, and then eventually, slowly walks back inside.

The door slams shut, and I sob, my shoulders bouncing as the tears fall.

“Get out of my house, you lying whore.” The shame.

This hurts.

Is that how he sees me? All the time, while I was falling, he saw me as nothing but a whore?

“She’s a prostitute who charges men to have sex with her.”

My breath quivers as I try to hold in my sobs.

I take out my phone and order an Uber. I have to keep wiping my eyes so I can see the screen.

“Because I paid her to have sex with me.”

I’m embarrassed, I’m ashamed and so confused.

I’m fucking hurt.

And the worst part is, he’s right. What he said is all true. Why the hell did I work there?

“Go near my son again and see what fucking happens to you.”

With a shaky hand, I stuff my phone back into my bag and slide down the wall to sit on the ground.

And in the rain and dark, I cry… alone.

The television drones in the background of the hotel room. I’ve been here for three days. I couldn’t stand the thought of returning back to the dorm on Friday night after I left. I still can’t stand it today.

I can’t risk running into Brandon… or Lara. Anyone. What would I say to them?

And I don’t know what to do.

I’ve never been so low.

And not because of what happened on Friday night, but because of what happened in the two weeks before that.

I let poverty take my morals—something that should never have been for sale.

And I met him...

The permanent lump in my throat is big and it hurts, I can’t even think of our time together without crying.

I thought it was special.

Only it wasn’t. I was delusional, seeing something in a man that wasn’t even there.

He isn’t who I thought he was.

That’s the worst part: knowing that I let myself down. I was so blinded by his light.

My vision clouds as the tears come once more.

I’m at the precipice of my life. A turning point. But I just don’t know which way to go.

I want to go home. I want to pack up and return to America to be with my family.


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