Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58412 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 292(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“This is for you,” he says, not mincing words, or making a big fuss out of this insane generosity.
“What do you mean? I can’t afford to rent here.”
“I mean, it’s yours,” he says. “It’s not something you have to pay rent on. You own it.” He emphasizes the point by handing me a sheaf of papers. When I look at them briefly, I see that it is a purchase agreement, and my name is on it.
I stare at him, my jaw hinging open, my mouth agape. I’ve heard of this kind of surprise before, but I have certainly never experienced it.
“What do you mean, it’s mine? I can’t afford property taxes on a place like this… The utilities alone…”
He smiles at me with that handsome indulgence I am starting to get far too used to.
“You don’t have to worry about bills. I am putting you on a stipend. You will not have to concern yourself with what you can and cannot afford as long as you are my pet.”
There’s the catch. I get all of this if I make myself available to him for his twisted little games. He’s buying me.
“I don’t get it. We met yesterday. You broke into my apartment today. There’s no way you bought this place while we were at the club, so you must have purchased it sometime today…”
“Yes. I did it directly after seeing you in your previous abode,” he says.
“Is this what you do? Buy women you barely know real estate? No wonder you’re such a popular man.”
Marcus laughs, pleased at my response. “I don’t do this for just anybody, Charlie,” he says. “You got my attention, and now you have my help. I suggest you make the most of what is a privileged position.”
“I could sell this, then?”
“I’d rather you didn’t, but legally, sure. I do not know if you would find a buyer, however.”
“Goddamn,” I curse as I see how much he paid for this place. It’s more than most people would earn if they lived a hundred lifetimes. There is a decadence to being around Marcus that wraps itself around you and makes you part of it. I am now in a world where I take a butt plug in my ass for the amusement of a billionaire and obtain property as a result.
“This is a lot for someone you don’t know. I can’t take this. Please, take my name off the deed. I don’t deserve it. I haven’t earned it.”
“Accept the gift and say thank you, Charlie,” Marcus chides me, reminding me of my manners.
“Oh my god, did I not say thank you?”
“Not yet,” he says, his lips quirking a little with amusement.
“I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m so sorry. I was just shocked, and…”
I realize I am still not saying thank you at this point. I am just stumbling over a series of explanations that don’t do anything to give him what he wants.
“Thank you,” I say. “You are incredibly generous.”
“I am incredibly rich,” he says, not bragging, but simply as a matter of fact. “To me, this apartment is pocket change.”
“Oh. Well. Thank you anyway.”
He must have been shocked by my place. He must think I was living in abject poverty. It is wild to come face-to-face with the inequality of billionaires versus everybody else. Marcus Waterstone quite literally does not live in the same world as the rest of us.
“I want to know you are living somewhere safe,” he says, confirming my suspicions. “I’ve had your things moved here, such as they were. You should find your clothing in the appropriate places in the bedroom.”
“Thank you. Can I get a puppy?”
His features expand into a smile. “Is that what you want?”
“Worst thing about renting is you can’t really have a dog. But if I own this sweet pad, then I can get a puppy. Plus, most of the flooring here seems like it’s tile or something, so it’s not like it’s going to be damaged by a dog.”
“You don’t have to ask me for a puppy,” he says. “You don’t have to ask me for anything you desire.”
This is all happening so quickly. I would be insane not to worry about it. I know this isn’t a financial burden on him, but it is a complete change in living circumstances for me. My old apartment was a mess, but it was my mess, and there are things in there that I really hope his movers missed. Like the paper draft of the article I am writing about him. I wrote some very, very uncomplimentary things in that article.
“This is really generous,” I repeat. “But I don’t think I can accept it. I haven’t done anything to earn it.”
“I didn’t do anything to be born into a vast fortune,” he says. “But here we are. Worry less about what you deserve, and more about what suffering you can alleviate.”