The Player plus The Pact equals I Do Read Online Louise Bay

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 423(@200wpm)___ 339(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
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Within a few minutes, I’m in a cab heading up to Harlem. I stop for sushi on the way and arrive at the New River building thirty minutes later.

I get out of the cab and suddenly realize Leo might have left in the time it took me to get here. Luckily for me, security is behind the desk and lets me in after I tell them I’m delivering dinner to my boss.

I step into the elevator and change my mind about being here at least five times on the way up.

What’s the worst that can happen?

He can look disappointed to see me. He can ask me to go.

The lights are all on when I step out of the elevator into the penthouse, which looks even bigger than it did the night of the party. It’s empty, for starters, but the unobstructed views of the city out the floor-to-ceiling windows are what make the biggest difference. I think it’s because I see views across the entire city that it looks so big. Like the entire island of Manhattan is up here in this apartment.

I sweep through but don’t see Leo. It’s not until my second walk-through that I spot the back of his head over the top of a chair on the terrace. As I walk toward him, I see he’s in his suit, one ankle crossed over a knee, his hands joined together in front of him.

Why is he here? He’s not working.

I slide open the glass door onto the terrace but he doesn’t turn at the sound.

“Hey,” I say. “I brought you dinner.”

He finally turns in his seat and gives me a half smile. “Oh hey.”

I offer him a tray of sushi, which he takes.

He doesn’t say anything and neither do I. I just take a seat in the chair next to his. We sit in silence as we eat. The air has a chill to it, and I wonder if there’s a blanket I can bring out here.

Or maybe I should head home. Only… something tells me Leo wants me here.

After about twenty minutes, he slides the empty sushi tray onto the table.

“It’s the delivery drivers who know the city better than anyone,” he says.

“I can see how that would be true,” I reply.

“They know the shortcuts, the back entrances, the traffic patterns. Where construction has popped up overnight.”

I nod and slide my half-eaten tray on the table next to his.

“Driving deliveries was how I developed my love of New York.”

“When you were delivering bread with your father?”

He nods. “Yeah. We’d be up so early, before the streets came to life. People are wrong when they say this is the city that never sleeps. It does—but it’s in shifts. Certain areas are quiet at certain times. The early mornings on the Upper East Side are peaceful.”

Leo’s not here because he wants to look out over the Upper East Side in the dark.

“That’s when you met her?”

He nods. “It was a long time ago, so why can’t I just move on?” he asks. “Why do I care enough about what she thinks about me that I’m prepared to make someone pretend to be my fiancée?”

“Do you think those old feelings were made worse because of what happened with Nadia this summer?”

“Probably. But I hate that even my subconscious is still so affected by Caroline. Like, why was I taken in by another cold blonde this summer?”

“By the sounds of it, no one could have predicted what she was after with Bennett.”

“True, but what was it about me that meant I was targeted by her? Why not Worth? Or Fisher or Byron or Jack?”

“Who’s to say? It might have been an alphabetical list and she was working backwards.”

He looks at me—really looks at me—for the first time tonight. It feels like his hand around my waist, warm and safe.

“You’re looking for closure,” I say. “That’s normal.”

“I got closure when she laughed in my face and told me she had no interest continuing our relationship. There was literal closure, Jules. It was a door in my face.”

“I think it’s normal to want to prove to your enemies that they didn’t break you.”

“Maybe she did break me,” he says more quietly.

“I don’t think so. She might have just bent you a little, and now you’re looking to straighten back out. But no one can do that for you but you.”

His eyes slice to mine and we sit there for a few moments, the city in the distance, a backdrop to our whole lives.

“You think someone else could straighten me out? Make me someone who’s less driven to succeed by the knowledge of what it’s like to feel small? Disposable? Someone who’s friendly with a lot of people but who has few actual friends? Someone who carries this anger toward a woman he hasn’t seen for fifteen years. Why can’t I just put it down?”


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