Total pages in book: 235
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 224334 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1122(@200wpm)___ 897(@250wpm)___ 748(@300wpm)
I turn my body slowly, following her to the door, and she stops. Looks over her shoulder. “Have a nice day,” she purrs, stroking between her thighs and slowly licking away the remnants of our morning session.
Jesus, Lord above. “Fuck off, Ava.”
Her smile is sultry and satisfied. Good for her. And I’d certainly be walking with a spring in my step, if my damn dick wasn’t iron again. I blow out air and cup myself, rearranging my trousers. And then I smile. She loves me. Can’t resist me. I pull out the pills, cringing, fighting with my conscience. Put them back. “You need help, Ward,” I mumble, putting them back in the wrong place. My pocket.
I scoop up my keys and head out. Clive looks a little more awake when I pass through the lobby, and a tip of his hat accompanied by a cheesy grin tells me we’re now on the same page. “Have a good day, Clive,” I say cheerfully, slipping on my shades and breaking out into the morning sunshine. I come to a stop and breathe in the new week, determined to make it a good one. I can do this. It’s eight . . . ish hours. I inwardly groan. Eight fucking hours. It’s going to feel like eight years.
“You look like you’ve been mauled by a lion.”
I turn and find John leaning against the bonnet of his Range Rover, looking over his glasses at me. I smile and peek over the top of mine. “It was a lioness, actually.” I stride over, still with no spring in my step. “Thanks for doing this, big man.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“What do you mean?”
His gold tooth is revealed when he snarls at me, and I back up a few steps, wary. “I mean, to sort this shit out so one, I don’t have to babysit your girlfriend, and two, because you just need to sort this shit out.”
“I don’t know,” I admit, a little stumped.
“So what’s the deal with Freja Van Der Haus?”
“She told her husband I fucked her.” I shake off a shudder. Freja knows Mikael dislikes me. She knows her husband hates The Manor, and now he knows she’s been in my bed. Ava will be a red flag to a bull, and that flag will be billowing in the face of the bull if Mikael finds out I’m rather attached to the flag. “Now she’s sniffing around trying to find out if Ava’s still the object of my affections.”
“And craziness,” he mutters, prompting me to look at him tiredly.
“I refused to entertain her advances, and now I’m feeling a little vulnerable.”
“Like she might tell Van Der Haus exactly how recently you fucked her.”
“Yes.” So, basically, I’m screwed either way.
He looks over his glasses at me, his nostrils flaring with anger. I can relate. “You said no more crazy shit. This is crazy. Just be honest with Ava.”
I laugh hysterically as I break out in an anxious sweat, pointing back at Lusso. How many times do we need to go over this? “Tell her that I betrayed her? Tell her I lost my mind for a brief moment and accepted two women into my office after sinking a bottle of vodka?” I scoff. “That’ll confirm everything she fears, and the possibility of losing her will become a dead certainty.” I’m a fuck-up. And as if to confirm it, I stuff my hand in my pocket and feel the pill packet I just stole from the love of my life. The love of my life who I fucking betrayed. Just give me a gun and I’ll put myself and everyone else out of their misery. “We’ve just got back on track. I’m not telling her,” I affirm, marching toward my Aston. “I can’t lose her, John. It’ll be the end of me.” I fall into the driver’s seat, start the engine, and roar off toward the gates. Tell her? Give her all of the ammunition she needs to leave me for good? “What the fuck is wrong with people around here?” I yell, smacking the steering wheel a few times, cursing with every pound and every sharp pain through my fist. “Fuck.” I sniff and roughly wipe at my welling eyes, frustration getting the better of me. The moment, the very fucking second I leave my paradise, my world is upended and my reality crashes down around me. I drop a gear and slam my foot down, my teeth grinding.
Think of Ava.
Just think of Ava.
So I do. All the way to The Manor, I run over every second of our time since I opened my eyes and found her asleep in the chair after my week-long trip to hell. Of each moment she fought me but didn’t want to fight me. And the moment I spoke the words I’ve dreaded saying. And hearing her say them back. A lump springs into my throat, my knuckles turning white from the force of my grip.