Sealed With A Kiss Read Online W. Winters, Willow Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 267(@200wpm)___ 214(@250wpm)___ 178(@300wpm)
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“I just can’t cover this month. I’m sorry. I barely made the rent.”

“I don’t get it.” Traffic goes by in the background, making her voice sound even shakier than it is. My heart hurts for her. I know what it’s like to be on your own with your life constantly on the brink. “What went so wrong with Kevin?”

“He cheated on me. You know that’s what happened.”

“Couldn’t you have—”

“Couldn’t I have done what?” This day has been a rollercoaster, and now I’m heading up another high hill, frustrated as all get out. I’m guilty of blaming myself for Kevin leaving but hearing it from another person reminds me that it’s bullshit. “Convinced him not to cheat? Been better somehow? I did everything he asked me to do.”

“I know, I know,” she says, softening. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to accuse you of anything, I just—”

“It’s fine. It’ll be okay,” I tell Kenzie. “All of this will work out. We just have to—”

“Keep trying?” My cousin lets out a bitter laugh. “I knew you’d say that. I gotta go. I’m almost at work.”

“Okay, but—”

She hangs up before I can finish my sentence and the guilt weighs heavy in my chest.

“I’ll always be here for you,” I shout at the phone. “That’s what I was going to say. I’ll be here for you, I just don’t have the money you need.” Tears sting the corner of my eyes and my throat goes dry.

I whirl away from the window, frustrated beyond belief, and as I do, the phone flies out of my hand.

It tumbles through the air in slow motion and hits the window much harder than I thought it would.

It hits the window so hard that it cracks. All the blood drains from my face and my hands go cold.

“No!” I shout, and rush to the window. The phone’s landed on the floor with only a minor scuff on the case, but the window has a crack in it.

A crack. In the giant picture window. Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

How the hell am I going to pay for this?

Graham

Another day, another meeting.

More stress.

All the while, my mind wandered.

The man I’ve been meeting with, Harland Porter, is throwing up roadblock after roadblock to the sale. Concern after concern. Question after question. I don’t know why he put the damned property up on the market if he’s so obsessed with it.

I’m not obsessed with any property like that.

Although, my mind drifting once again, I’m a bit concerned I may be becoming obsessed with Madelyn.

Obsession has no place in a deal like that.

I can’t stop thinking about her. It was one fuck, so it shouldn’t mean anything. I’m the one who was in charge of the situation. I could’ve offered anything and I offered that deal, and she wanted it. I run my hand over the back of my neck as Harland drones on and my business associates answer.

It takes great effort to keep my expression stern and unmoving as my thumb runs over the tip of my pointer and I imagine her soft skin and delectable moans.

Years ago, I thought that being filthy rich would solve all my problems. It hasn’t. It solved some of them, that’s for sure. I won’t ever have to worry about losing my house or being on the street. I won’t ever be in the position of begging someone for rent money.

Those concerns are far behind me, and the ones that are ahead have much higher stakes. People work for me now. People depend on me. Which means it’s not just me I have to think about when it comes to making these deals.

It might be easier if I had something to take the edge off. Something real and constant in my life other than my penthouse apartment. What my apartment has going for it is that it’s predictable. It’s expensive and luxurious, decorated exactly to my taste, and nobody else ever interferes. It offers me privacy and an escape. But it’s hollow and far too quiet.

For the second time this week, I catch myself thinking about what it would be like to come home to someone, not just some place.

Not a wife. I can’t imagine marriage. And not a girlfriend…I’m not interested in complications and emotions.

All that is a distraction. I know what happens to men who fall too deep into finding that missing someone. Statistics on love and marriage are far too telling. The majority of people never find ‘the one’ and end up alone. Half of those who do take the leap into love end up unhappy and broke after divorce.

“Let’s take five?” Harland questions and the associates agree. The computer screen shows them all nodding, and I agree to the short break. Once the camera is off, I rub a hand over my face and lean back in my chair. I click over the tabs to another long email chain. We’ve been going back and forth for an hour. Part of me wants to cut my losses and stop spending time trying to acquire a property that’s not truly available.


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