Mr. Spencer Read online T.L. Swan

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 156029 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
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I stare at him.

“Someone came into my office just after she left, and I shoved the key in my pocket to hide it from them. After that, I forgot all about it.”

I feel my back molars nearly crack from me clenching my jaw so hard.

“I remembered it this morning on my way to work.” He runs his hands through his hair. “I panicked, Charlotte. I didn’t want you to find it and think the wrong thing.”

I roll my eyes in disgust. Likely story.

“I came back here today, got it, and I threw it in the bin.”

I fly out of bed like a madwoman. “Of course you did.” I storm to the door. “Right after you fucked her.”

“Charlotte, I promise you, I haven’t been with Sheridan.”

I stare at him through my tears.

“I was at a work dinner. I have clients who have flown in from China.”

“Why didn’t you tell me she came to you?” I cry.

“Because she doesn’t fucking matter to me!” he yells back.

My face screws up in tears. “Do you love her?” I sob.

“No, I fucking love you.” He shakes his head. “And I have no idea how that’s even possible. I’ve known you for five fucking minutes.”

I stare at him, lost for words.

“People who love each other don’t tell lies, Spencer.”

I turn away and storm downstairs. I can’t be near him right now. I have no idea what to believe.

“What about you?” he calls from the top step. “You haven’t told me one fucking lie since we’ve been together?”

I turn to him sharply. “Never! I have not lied to you once. Not once.”

“Bull-fucking-shit.” He charges down the stairs and grabs my arm, dragging me out of the front door and into the corridor near the elevator. “Look in the bin.”

“What?”

“Look in the fucking bin. I threw the key in there this morning on my way out of the apartment.” He picks up the bin in the corridor and tips it upside down like a crazy person. The lid flies off, and a lone hotel key card falls out onto the carpet. “Check the security footage from Mr Wong’s in Chinatown, you fucking know it all. I was there until twenty minutes ago.”

With that, he turns and storms back into the apartment, leaving me to stand still as my heart beats hard in my chest.

I close my eyes, instantly full of regret.

Shit.

I walk back inside the apartment to find him marching up the stairs.

I follow him carefully and quietly.

He’s furious, raging like a bull. He storms into the wardrobe and begins throwing his stuff onto the bed like a madman.

I fold my arms over my chest. “What did you expect me to think?” I snap. “I find a key in the morning then I come home and find it’s gone. Then you’ve conveniently had something on all of a sudden and won’t be coming over.”

“While we’re talking about lies… I want to know yours.” He sneers.

I wither. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You are pissing me off, Charlotte Prescott,” he growls. “Get out of my fucking face before I lose my shit.” He storms up the hall, and I find myself running after him.

“What lie?” I cry. “What are you talking about, Spencer?”

“Don’t tell me that you don’t have feelings for the man who took your virginity, because I know you do. It’s fucking eating me alive.”

Huh…?

“Do you really fucking expect me to believe that you wait twenty-five years to lose your virginity, only to give it to someone you don’t care about?”

I roll my eyes.

“I’m not fucking stupid,” he barks, making me jump. “Who is he?”

We stare at each other as we pant, both of us furious. I’m not telling him like this, he’s too angry. He’ll go berserk about me lying to him in the first place.

I go to touch him, but he flicks my hand off his arm. “Don’t fucking touch me, you piss me off.” He storms out. I hear him walk down the hall, and then the spare bedroom door slams shut.

I drag my hands through my hair.

I walk up to the spare bedroom and stand outside the door.

I hear him kick off his shoes, and then I hear something hit the wall. I hear the blankets get thrown back. “Fuck off!” he mutters angrily to himself before something else hits the wall.

I slide down the wall and sit on the floor in the hallway. At least he hasn’t left me.

But what now?

Edward

I run through the profit and loss sheets for Macao, checking the losses myself with a calculator. They’re two percent higher than expected, and I want to find where we are slipping. My father Harold is in his office next to me, going through some refurbishment details with our interior designers.

My phone rings and the name Alexander York lights up the screen.


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