Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 425(@250wpm)___ 354(@300wpm)
I clench my teeth.
“I love you, son. And I’ll kill anyone who interferes with you or this family in any way. You are my heir and the second love of my wife’s life.”
“I’d say her first love,” I correct.
He gives me a scathing look, his dark eyes promising payback in my future, and I smirk. “Don’t get smart.” He’s always jealous of my mother loving anyone else. I’m actually surprised my own father didn’t try to suffocate me as a baby with how much attention she gave me instead of him.
“Back to the topic at hand. Whether you think I’m being unfair or not, there is a code. You understand this more than anyone since you’ll be the next head of this family. No exception is made, not even for you. There wasn’t one made for me, and I will apply the same rules to you.”
“And if I don’t have someone by your old-man party?” I jest, always wanting to get under my father’s skin.
He throws back the rest of the whiskey, admiring the empty glass. “Then your mother will be upset, and I will remain in charge for many more years to come.” I know he’ll force my hand before he upsets my mother.
“I may not be nurturing, but if there’s one thing I’ve instilled in you, it’s that you’ll do what needs to be done. Don’t agonize over this one caveat. Take an obedient wife and rule over New York. It’s as easy as that.” He stands and places the glass down.
He steps toward the door but pauses. “Also, I received your gift.”
I grin. “The new car? What do you think?” I had it custom-made for him and oversaw the specifications myself. The car is fucking sexy.
“Just don’t tell your mother about it. Wouldn’t want her to know I go over the speed limit or anything,” he says dryly, and I chuckle. The corner of his mouth tilts up as he excuses himself.
I’m left alone in the office, his words swirling in my head.
“Take an obedient wife and rule over New York. It’s as easy as that.”
Why does that thought make me want to vomit?
Because there’s no fun in that.
My mind drifts to a pair of amber eyes and the memory from earlier tonight of holding her in place against my cock. I would much rather force my wife into submission than have her come willingly.
Even after I leave the club, I can’t stop thinking about the way she melted against my palm, fucking herself on my fingers. I should’ve killed her the moment I first cornered her in that room at the party. But I find her very intriguing, not just because she’s an attractive woman but because of her very blunt and cold personality. I can tell she doesn’t like it when men touch her. She tensed up when Dutton placed his hand on her back, and she always puts space between herself and anyone else, as if it personally offends her when someone gets too close, which is precisely why I do exactly that. I want to force her to crumble into defeat and submission. I remind myself it’s just business to use her as a pawn to flush out whoever is targeting me. But now, the intrigue is far outweighing the logic.
I’m not sure how long I’ll keep her alive, but even Will has drawn a blank on who might’ve hired her. She’s either very fucking good, or her client is very lucky. I can’t work out which one it is.
That undeniable curiosity has me driving past her apartment at three in the morning. I park along the curb, surprised to find her shadow moving across the curtains.
I consider the things my father said, and at no point was I even tempted to tell him about my precarious situation. If my father knew anything about it, his advice would be very simple: kill her. In fact, he’d probably try to do it himself.
My phone lights up with a text message.
Stalker: Do you plan to come in and leave me love notes? Kiss Emoji
I can’t help the smile that tugs my lips. Is that what she calls the notes she leaves stabbed to my door? I guess she did leave a kiss mark, so maybe that’s her definition of a love note. It also doesn’t surprise me that she knows I’m parked outside her home. I don’t care much if she bugged my car or just has phenomenal security outside her window. It’s not like I’m exactly hiding.
I reply to her message.
Me: Would you like a love note?
Sincerely,
The man who left you soaking wet.
I look back up to her window. Only a few seconds pass before she pulls back her curtain. And despite the distance, I notice the scornful glare she shoots me. She flips me off with her bandaged hand, and my upper lip twitches, amused by her incessant urge to piss me off.