Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 45279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45279 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 226(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“Sit down.” Bishop gestures to the seat in front of him. He points to the other two. “Get out.”
Nate and Brantley finally move out of the room, but not before Nate pauses, his hand on the door handle. “You both need to sort this shit out before Bishop takes the gavel. This shit? It’s not good. And Madison?” Nate swipes his nose. “Fucking get off the coke before it kills you.”
“If it doesn’t, I sure as fuck will,” Bishop growls under his breath.
I gulp, resting my hands on my lap as Nate closes the door in his departure. It’s then I realize the complete disarray of the room. Photo frames smashed, books thrown all over the floor, bullet holes shot into the bulletproof glass window behind his desk.
“Got a video this morning,” Bishop says calmly, reaching for the decanter and taking out a cigar. He clenches his teeth so hard the muscles on the sides of his jaw flex. “Gotta say, your little side-piece is sure theatrical with his success of being able to lay you flat on your back.”
“Bishop, I don’t know what else to say.” Other than the truth. The truth that I can’t feed you because it will hurt everyone around me. I’d rather them all hate me than they have any harm.
“Madison, you fucking cheated on me. He recorded it. Sent it to me. You fucked him on our bed.”
My face pales as my throat swells, and all of the words that I want to say can’t come out. “I’m sorry, Bishop. It was a mistake.”
His silence is deafening. He pushes up from his desk and moves to the large window that overlooks the city, his body remaining hard, staunch. His shirt tightens enough to show his muscles, but his jeans are fitted enough to not give too much away. His hair is a mess on the top of his head, and when he reaches for his Zippo in his pocket to light his cigar, I notice his split, bleeding knuckles.
He doesn’t turn as he says the next words. “I won’t be telling anyone about what happened. You will not tell anyone. You will stay here, with me, and pretend that none of this happened.”
“Why?” I ask, whispering through the pain. “Why would you?”
“Because I’m not going to be the one who breaks this family. And if in a hundred years, when I decide I’ve forgiven you, then maybe—maybe—I’ll let you remember just how much I loved you.” He finally looks over his shoulder before fully facing me. “Because I did, Madison. I did love you. Now?” he growls, and I see it now. I see the boy I knew all those years ago, only this time it’s worse. It’s worse because he’s not a boy—he’s a man. “Now you’re nothing to me but a fucking transaction.” He flicks his hand to the door. “Get out.”
One Month later
When you find someone who destroyed you.
Kill them.
CHARITY EVENTS WITH THE ELITE Kings are never as they seem. For one, they’re used as a guise to distract people from what is really going on—and in tonight’s case, it is Hector Hayes and his usual laws, tricks, and games.
I never understood the extent of everything until I became close with the society of the EKC. Hector is by far the most hated yet respected and admired man in this world. We are now months away from him Bishop taking over for his father completely, and I’m not ready.
Not even close.
My throat closes around the bubbles of the light champagne as my eyes fly to Tillie who sits opposite me. Bishop is on one side, Nate on the other. Even as the music plays throughout the lobby, I know what Bishop is doing. He ignored me all morning, making sure to get ready with the boys. Things between us have been tense, to say the least. I wake up every morning and plaster on a smile to conceal the pain that bleeds through my veins. People think that when you’re sexually abused it’s only about surviving those few minutes while it happens, but it’s not. Their hands stay on your long after the act is done.
Bishop’s eyes come to mine. The same I hated when I met him, and loved without realizing. He’s dressed in an Armani suit with the buttons undone at the top, and his hair is a clutter of a mess on the top of his head. I mean, we all know his family has some weird Italian bloodline, but he has some serious extreme gene enhancements going on. Even if Scarlet didn’t tell me about their family history, you can see it in both him and his father. Their sharp features that have an underlying danger beneath their hazel eyes.
They’re a problem.
Bishop Vincent Hayes has always been ominous, but I’ve always been his muse. Until recently. I fear I think I lost him for good this time.