Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
When we made it back to my place, Sergei insisted on accompanying me all the way to my front door as usual. But when I invited him to come in, he shook his head, saying he had a breakfast appointment.
“With Madeline?” The words were out before I could stop myself.
The billionaire gazed at me, his gorgeous face inscrutable. “And if it’s so?”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Did you fuck her last night?” I heard myself ask tightly. I knew I was setting myself up for more hurt, but at least there would be closure. I was just so tired of thinking and hoping for the impossible. I just wanted to hear him say the truth so I could move on.
But the billionaire only continued to gaze at me, jaw clenching, and that was when I saw the cold fury in his dark gaze. Blinking in bemusement, I stammered his name out, wondering what he had to be angry about. “S-Sergei?”
He turned his back on me without a word, and when I realized he was really leaving just like that, I instinctively reached for him. “Wait.” My fingers curled around the sleeve of his jacket. “Sergei—-” He whipped around to face me, eyes blazing, and my voice trailed off.
“What right do you have to ask that question,” he hissed, “when we’re just friends?”
Oh.
“Why would you even care,” the billionaire snarled under his breath, “when you obviously think Julian Alexeyev can be of greater help to you?” He suddenly moved towards me, a savage look on his face, and I involuntarily retreated, my heart jumping as my back collided with my front door.
“Sergei—-”
“I’ll answer your question just this once,” he grated out, “but after this, you will never ask it again. Because you were the one who wanted this.”
Ah.
I wanted to look away, but his dark eyes had already captured mine, and there was no way to protect myself from his words.
“You were the one who asked to be friends.” And the way the billionaire looked at me, I already had my answer, and it hurt.
I whirled around, my heart squeezing as I muttered painfully, “I don’t want to talk anymore.” I fumbled with the lock, desperate to get inside before he could say something more hurtful. The key slid in, and my body shuddered in relief. Just another second, I thought feverishly, and I wouldn’t have to know—-
“Yes,” Sergei said behind me in a rough undertone. “I fucked her.”
My hand fell limply to my side, and the door swung away from me.
No.
I couldn’t have heard that.
Somebody make me forget I heard that.
I squeezed my eyes shut as the pathetic part of myself wished humans had the ability to will themselves into suffering amnesia.
He had fucked her.
He was fucking her.
He had probably never stopped fucking her, and I...I had no right to complain.
Because it was what he said. I had asked for it.
“Say something,” the billionaire gritted out from behind, and I wanted to laugh madly at his words. What was there to say?
“Fredericka—-” His fingers brushed against my arm.
“No!” I recoiled violently, my skin crawling at his touch. I didn’t care if I wasn’t making any sense. All I knew was that I couldn’t stomach having his fingers touch me, knowing that those same fingers had grazed another woman’s skin—-
The thought ripped my heart apart, and I shook my head wildly. “I have to go.” And without looking back, I stumbled inside my apartment and slammed the door shut, pushing it with my back. I managed to lock the door before sliding down to the floor, my energy disappearing in an instant.
I stared blindly at my surroundings, my mind still trapped in a nightmarish world where all I could see was the billionaire making love to Madeline Carter over and over and over.
You had asked for this, Fredericka Spears.
I breathed hard, willing myself to calm down. I couldn’t let myself be affected. This was what I wanted. This was how I protected myself...but God, how could playing it safe hurt so much?
THE REST OF THE WEEKEND went like a blur. I couldn’t remember what I did, all I knew was that time flew past me without being aware of it. By Sunday night, I felt like a zombie and I was in my bed at seven in the evening, lethargic and numb.
If I had the keys to the office, I would have been there in an instant, working my ass off. I needed something to keep me busy. Anything to get my mind off the fact that Sergei Grachyov had been fucking another woman while he was my...friend.
I kept my eyes wide open at the thought, knowing that if I let myself blink, it would be over, and my eyes wouldn’t be able to stay dry.
Sergei, Sergei, Sergei.
Both my heart and body ached, but the pain wasn’t the same for the two. There was no alleviating the hurt in my heart, but the way my body felt restless...the way it ached in different places, craving for a particular kind of heat—-