Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63564 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
He stepped inside my office, a newspaper tucked under his arm.
“Scotch?” I asked.
“It’s ten.”
“So?” I poured myself a glass, having no concept of time anymore. All I could truly sense was the rising and setting of the sun. I knew when it was daytime and when it was nighttime, but that was it.
He sat across from me then touched the newspaper with his fingertips.
I stared at him. “What is it, Carter?”
“I’m not sure if I should show this to you…or if it’ll make any kind of a difference.” He tossed the newspaper onto the table.
My eyes spotted Muse right away, but she wasn’t alone.
She was with some six-foot-three good-looking guy. With blue eyes, a muscular physique, and a charming smile, he was the definition of a pretty boy. His arm was around her at the park, and then they were huddled close together over dinner. The last picture was the two of them entering his apartment on Park Avenue—so he was wealthy.
I already felt like shit, but this dragged me down to a whole new level.
Fuck.
She was seeing someone.
I scanned through the article and picked up on a few things. It discussed their relationship, that they’d been seen out together for the past month. He owned a few gyms, but other than that, they didn’t have any other important information.
I turned it over and set it back on the table.
Carter stared at me, as if he waited for me to unleash my rampage.
I was sick to my stomach, weak, and dead inside. The jealousy I felt was something I’d never known before. It was powerful, terrifying, and sickening. I wanted to rip this guy’s eyes out and feed them to a dog. I wanted to crush his skull underneath my shoe. I didn’t give a damn how nice he was.
He wasn’t good enough for her.
Carter shook his head slightly as he stared at me. “Looks like you waited too long.”
I didn’t know what the fuck I was doing.
Once the adrenaline set in, my heart pounded nonstop. I didn’t sleep because I was too livid to feel tired. All I felt was pain, the kind of torture that made powerful men crack. I was devastated, so hurt I could barely suck in a breath.
I didn’t think twice before I ordered my jet to be prepared for the voyage to New York.
I landed at three in the morning, when the city was the quietest—even though it never slept.
I didn’t know what my purpose was, what I hoped to accomplish. If she was seeing this handsome guy, she’d obviously moved on from me. It’s been almost three months in total since she sped off into the night in my Ferrari.
It wasn’t like she didn’t wait long enough.
But this still felt like a betrayal—a horrid heartbreak.
I should just go to the hotel and rest until morning, but I couldn’t do that. I had to see her right that second. Maybe she was staying at her boyfriend’s place, or better yet, he was staying at hers.
I’d love to come face-to-face with him.
And murder him.
I got into her building and arrived at her front door. I stared at the hardwood, debating whether I should do this or not. What was the purpose of this anyway? I couldn’t get angry at her when she did nothing wrong. She didn’t owe me anything, so this wasn’t a betrayal. I was the one who broke her heart.
Not the other way around.
Even though I’d been killed in the process.
My finger hit the doorbell.
Now, all I had to do was wait. The damage had been done, and the ball was rolling.
I waited for a long time before I heard her footsteps hit the hardwood floor in her apartment. If she was dressed in just his t-shirt, I’d punch a hole through the wall. My hands tightened into fists just from thinking about it.
When her footsteps stopped, I knew she was standing at the door—looking through the peephole.
Looking at me.
The door cracked open, and her shocked expression looked into mine. Her eyebrows were high off her face, her skin was pale like milk, and her hair was pulled back into a loose bun. She kept one hand on the door as she looked at me, either because she was prepared to shut it in my face or she needed it for balance.
Now I had her attention. But I didn’t know what to do with it.
“Conway…what are you doing here? It’s almost four in the morning.”
I invited myself inside and yanked the door from her grasp. I shut it behind me. “Is he here?” I stepped into her apartment and scanned the room, expecting to see a large, muscular man ready to rush me. If he was there, I’d be even angrier. How could he let her open the door by herself? Even if she lived in a nice building, this was still New York. Crazy shit happened every night.