Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
“Do you believe in happy endings?” I croaked, barely audible for Dallas to hear.
“Yes.” She clung on to my back tighter. “I live mine every single day. It’s not always perfect, but it sure is happy. We can all write our own happy endings. That’s why hope exists. It’s our pen.”
“I feel like mine ran out of ink.”
“Oh, no.” She shimmied us, lips curved up. “You just need to give it a good shake.”
We laughed and twirled, like two kids playing make-believe. When the song ended, Dallas bowed to me, and I did the same. I raised my head, the grin wiping off my face in an instant.
Because behind Dallas’ shoulder stood no other than my boss.
My formidable, incredibly pissed-off boss, by the looks of it.
Zach stared at me with enough ire to scorch a path straight to me. I was surprised he even recognized me with my borrowed frock and fancy hair.
His eyes delivered a warning. He curled a finger to signal me to come to him. I flipped my hair, gave him my back, and headed to the bar.
Nope.
I refused to be treated like a misbehaved dog, especially on my birthday.
Halfway through my journey, a hand clasped my elbow from behind.
I turned, jerking it away. “Don’t you dar—”
Oh.
I’d expected Zach but got Oliver von Bismarck instead.
Up-close, he looked even more delectable. Eyes clearer and bluer than the Caribbean Ocean, dark blond hair swept to the side like a Tom Ford commercial.
So beautiful.
So depraved.
I pitied the women who fell prey to his trap.
He curled his pink lips. “You.”
I arched a brow. “Me?”
“You’re the antidote.”
The antidote?
I’d heard he was a player, not an alcoholic. Perhaps he was a man of many parts.
“I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Of course, you don’t.” Oliver studied me. “We need to talk.”
“I wholeheartedly disagree.”
“Let’s have a little chat. Dance with me.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“A memory to cherish.” His smirk was agonizing. He dripped sin and decadence. “Something to write home about.”
I slouched against the bar, waving a hand to draw a bartender’s attention. “Nice ego. Do they make you pay extra for overweight luggage when you travel?”
“Is this a middle-class thing?” His brows snapped together. “I’ve only ever flown private.”
Jesus H.
The bartender ignored me, whizzing by with three drinks in his hands.
Oliver inched closer to be heard. “Anyway, name your price.”
That was an easy one. “A round-trip ticket to Seoul. First class.”
He chuckled. “Deal.”
Then, he grabbed my hand without asking, dragging me back to the dance floor before I could say margarita. I could practically feel Dallas’ smile warming the back of my neck as the crowd parted for him.
He placed us in the middle of the floor and spun me to face him. His fingers pressed against my upper back, warm and strong.
In another world, in another time, I would enjoy them.
In reality, however, all I cared about was survival.
The orchestra began playing. We took position—him with flawless posture and me with unpracticed rigidness—and danced.
“Mr. Sun…” Oliver twirled me. “…is broken. I’m sure you’ve figured it out by now.”
He held me closer. It occurred to me that this looked like an intimate, clandestine moment by design.
I didn’t know how, but I knew Zach watched us like a hawk—and that Oliver had intended this.
I didn’t respond.
“All sharp-edged shards.” Oliver spun me again. “He doesn’t let anyone get too close, so they don’t bleed out.”
Still, I said nothing, letting him spin me like a rag doll. With the whirl, I noted a sea of women watching in envy as I clung to Oliver von Bismarck’s shoulders.
I ignored them, trying and failing to find Zach.
“Now, I don’t know who you are…” Oliver guided each of my steps, moving just slow enough for me to concentrate on his words. “…and the way you wormed yourself into his life is questionable to say the least.” That crisp, businesslike tone surprised me. Not at all like the ditzy party boy his reputation claimed him to be. “But if you hurt my best friend, who seems downright obsessed with you, I will personally drag you into the pits of hell and toss you into the fire. He’s been through enough. You hear me?”
I threw my head back and laughed. It must’ve seemed like we were having a splendid time.
“I will crush him into dust if I so wish to, von Bismarck. I don’t take to being threatened very well.”
I didn’t tell him the truth—that I had no power over Zachary Sun. No one did. I was simply the only person he somehow found bearable enough to touch.
I was a shiny new toy.
Something to pass the time with.
“You have a smart mouth.” He gave me an appreciative once-over. “I can see why he likes you.”
“Wait till you see me with a sword.”
His eyes flared, a gleam of curiosity lurking within them. Weirdly enough, his beauty did nothing to me.