Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
“I think I've managed just fine without one. I have someone that makes up for all that.”
"You and Anya are as different as night and day."
I blinked in surprise.
I should’ve expected him to know about the person closest to me, but him saying her name so casually still caught me off guard.
"Different?" I echoed, wondering where he was going with this and how to react. “Of course we’re different. Why does it sound like you think that’s a bad thing?”
He leaned back in his chair with an irritating smile curving one side of his pretty mouth. "If I were to list every sordid detail about that girl, we’d be here for ages.”
“Sordid? I’m sorry, I don’t think we’re talking about the same person.”
“No? Anya doesn’t sleep with any man who has a flashy car and a bit of cash to spare ?”
“Well, she—”
“She doesn’t leave behind a trail of ruined marriages and broken hearts, yet somehow is always the victim and woman scorned?” He cut me off and continued, his voice carrying a mixture of amusement and no small amount of disgust.
“You’re judging her, and you don’t even know her.”
“Was anything I said wrong? Anya is a slut who pretends to be a whore.”
“Is there a difference between those two words?” I questioned, beginning to get a sense of déjà vu from the last time we ate together.
“Yes. One gets something in return. More than a cunt full of cum, anyway.”
I curled my fingers and glared at him. He had a lot of nerve to say any of these things.
“Don’t look at me like that. You know I’m right—you just don’t want to hear this from me. A twist of misfortune is what brought you and Anya together. If not for that, you two wouldn’t have ever met.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I do,” he retorted calmly, his tone matter of fact. "You are a goddess in your own right. Someone that should be worshipped from head to toe. So, so beautiful. Worth more than this entire world.”
Despite how pissed his assessment of Anya made me, his words had a confusing mix of emotions bubbling up inside. His admiration made me feel both significant and incredibly exposed. I wasn't accustomed to such intense adoration and wasn’t expecting it under these circumstances.
My heart raced, and I couldn’t decipher if it was fear, surprise, or something else entirely. A tiny part of me wanted to bask in his praise and the feeling of being seen. The louder, more dominant voice in my head warned me against the pull of his words. Attempting to mask my unease, I held his gaze.
“Flattery will get you nowhere with me.”
The glint in his amber eyes was unwavering. “It's not flattery, Lolita. It's the undeniable truth.”
Unsure how to respond, I steered the conversation back to the prior point of discussion. I was angrier at the fact that I couldn’t deny Anya had done any of the things he mentioned than I was at his bluntness. “So, you’ve gathered easily obtained information about Anya and me. That’s somehow made you an expert on my life and relationships?”
"The most impressive thing about your life is that you belong to me.”
“I do not—”
“Living in that shitty apartment with the retired meth-head next door wasn’t impressive. It was depressing. Working as a maid at a lower level than what our servitors endure was unacceptable. And let's not forget your other pitiful attempts at a career. The chip factory. The discount shoe store.”
His words unraveled fragments of my past, and, as of a few days ago, my present. He spoke with an anger that was palpable, yet it wasn't directed at me. It was as if he resented the hurdles I had faced.
We were clearly polar opposites on this subject. His view of my life needled at my skin. He lived in the lap of luxury and had literal servants. There were times that I worked myself to the bone to make sure I had food in my stomach and some sort of a roof above my head, even if it was just my car. I wasn’t ashamed or embarrassed to have done so.
“You know what, I like my shitty apartment and my neighbor. Knyra worked hard to turn her life around. Not everyone has the privilege of being born with a silver spoon shoved up their ass. The irony of you talking down to me, or anyone for that matter, as your sister works for you as a…what’s that term? Servitor.”
The words slipped from my lips like a challenge, a daring jab at the facade of his perfect world. His brows rose, a pregnant pause filling the space between us. I was taken aback when a genuine laugh fell from his mouth. It wasn’t the response I was expecting.
“You’re stunning when passionate about something.”