Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85177 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Before I can stop her, I see the two of them get into the back of a taxi and take off without so much as a goodbye.
“Oh too bad, looks like yours got away too.” Richard's smile is almost evil as he throws his arm around Stan’s shoulder and they make their way to his limo. “Enjoy your evening, Bastian,” he calls over his shoulder as I stand there in the empty lot, feeling like I’m the thing that’s empty now.
Chapter Seven
Lux
“You better not have ruined this for me.” Scarlett taps angrily on her phone while scolding me like I’m a child. How the heck am I in the wrong here? She freaking screamed, and I'm pretty sure that’s a universal call for help. What else was I supposed to do? “You have no idea how much money those old fucks are worth.”
I actually think I have a pretty good idea with how they were acting. No rules applied to them and their good old boys club. After what I saw tonight, it was more than clear.
Sitting back in my seat, I’m drained and not willing to fight with her. I did my part, and now I’m out of it. I’ll make sure she gets home at least because she might have been drugged or something. I don’t think she’s drunk, but I don’t understand her behavior. She’s clearly not okay, and I think of the times my brother Luca told me the city is filled with crazy people. I’m starting to think he might be right.
“Yes!” Scarlett blurts out, and I see a smile spread across her face.
When I lean over to see what she’s looking at, there’s a video on the screen. My mouth falls open as I watch the whole encounter play back on her phone. Someone must have been recording it for her, because it’s filmed from a distance. Whatever she did it’s going to blow up in that old man’s face because there’s no missing the wedding ring on his finger.
I keep watching as I try to get her to take my coat, but the more I watch, the more my stomach turns. I look away, not wanting to see or hear any more, especially when they ask Bastian to come with them and the other bunnies. I’m disappointed that Bastian would even be associated with people of that caliber. He sure had me fooled, but I should have known better. He was too charming and sweet and a reality that was too good to be true. Lesson learned, even if it was done the hard way.
“Nasty fuckers are going to pay.” Scarlett puts her phone back into her pocket, and I have no doubt she’s planning to blackmail someone.
I think about it for a second, and I don’t even care. I hope they get what they deserve, and I’m glad to be away from it. I still can’t help the heavy feeling in my stomach and how foolish I feel. The city isn’t turning out anything like I thought it would, and I feel more naïve every second I’m here.
Scarlett doesn't even say goodbye when the taxi pulls up in front of her building. She gets out of the car without a word, and I give the driver my address next. Luckily it isn't far, because I need this outfit off of me quickly.
The second I enter the apartment, I’m kicking off my heels and pulling at the bunny costume. I’m a dog chasing my tail as I try to reach the back snaps, but it’s no use. I start to panic, feeling claustrophobic, and I wonder if I’ll ever be able to get this thing off. Tears prick my eyes as I realize I’m going to have to be buried in it because I'll be wearing it for the rest of my life.
“You okay?” I swing around to see Avery standing in the living room and trying to fight a smile. He’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants, and it’s hard not to appreciate the view. He’s not big and bulky like Bastian but lean and trim.
“You look Photoshopped,” I mumble, not meaning to say it out loud, and he bursts into laughter. His reaction helps me calm down a little, and I let out a long sigh.
“I better, with the time I put in at the gym and the cardboard crap I have to eat.” He comes over to where I’m standing and makes a circle with his finger. “Turn around.”
I do as he tells me and feel instant relief when he pops a few of the buttons. He stops partway down, and I glance over my shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” He’s staring intently at my back.
“Do you have to return this thing?”
“Probably?” What the heck is going on back there?
“The zipper is stuck.” My anxiety starts to rise again, but he must sense I’m close to freaking out. “Fuck it,” he says as he grabs the top and pulls on it in one hard tug.