Total pages in book: 68
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64501 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 323(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
The pain in her, the deep hurt, is like a bat beating at my emotions, each blow asking me why I didn’t fix all of this sooner. Why I left her in the first place. “You have me. And you are loved by everyone who meets you. The Walker team loves you, and not because I’m paying them. Your production staff loves you.”
“I don’t even know if I have a show anymore.”
“Baby, I got a text about the insanely high ratings of the special you did. You have a show. TV executives love scandal.”
“But your father’s powerful. Aren’t they worried about him?”
“Those execs are powerful, too. I promise you, you’re going to get a call, and a good one. Those people want ratings because ratings mean advertisers.”
“Until your father sues me and them.”
“Which you could talk about on the show, and he’d garner more unwanted attention. Your ratings are going to go up because people hope you mention the case again. And they know about me now. That piques interest.”
“That you don’t need.”
“Baby, I just need you. Now, let’s talk about the wedding.”
“Here?” she asks tentatively. “And why am I trapped under a sheet with you on top? Do you think I’m going to run to the bathroom and lock myself inside? The door was never locked, by the way.”
I laugh and slip under the covers with her, the two of us rolling to face each other, both of us with our heads on the pillows, but I’m not allowing her to escape the topic. “We own a property in the Hamptons and in London. I think the Hamptons would be a beautiful place to get married. I can take you there next weekend.”
“I’ve never been to any of those places, and you own properties in those places. Not me or we.”
“My money is your money, baby. You need to get used to that.”
“I don’t want your money, Damion. And I’ll sign something. The last thing I’m going to be is anything like either of my parents.”
I capture her hand and kiss it. “Alana—”
“I’m serious, Damion. No.”
“You can’t live the rest of your life with me that way. I have worked hard and made a lot of money. What good is it if I can’t share it with you? And you have plenty of money of your own, too. You’re not giving it all to your mother anymore. I will not let that happen. I’ll fight you on that topic.”
“You don’t have to fight me on it. I’m done being taken advantage of, and she inherited from my father anyway.”
“Not yet. She’s going to need money.” I sigh and roll to my back. “And we can’t not take care of her, but she’s getting a budget. A limit.” I turn to look at her. “And don’t say no. It’s necessary. She’ll fuck with your head over and over if we don’t do it.”
She rolls to her back as well and sighs heavily, the sound a puff of emotions that skitter about the room, and punch at the air. I lean over her. “It’s the best move, baby. We take care of her with a defined limit.”
“Maybe your father should take care of her.”
“You don’t mean that. You’re just hurt tonight.”
“I am, but I’m not joking. How weird would it be if they really ended up together?”
“I’d say they deserve each other, and if that happens, it happens. We’ll deal with it…together.”
“We’re talking about the monkey in the room, Damion. He’s going to come after me.”
“I’ll handle my father, and no, not by killing him. We’ll talk about how tomorrow. Tonight, let’s just be in the moment. Be us. Okay?”
“Yes. Yes, I like that.”
“Good. Then I hope you’re up to taking care of the problem you created.” I nestle between her thighs, letting her realize just how damn hard I am again.
“Oh. My,” she says, her eyes wide.
“That’s what happens when you choose to wrap your hand around my cock.”
She laughs, a sweet musical sound, the tension of moments before fading away, lost in the soft notes. “I guess that worked for me, then. I guess you better kiss me.”
“Yes. I guess I better kiss you.”
It’s a long time later when I lay on my back with Alana nestled to my side, her head on my shoulder, her hand on my chest, her breath slow and steady. She’s been asleep for a good fifteen minutes, the lights out, the darkness surrounding us doing nothing to slow my thoughts. All it’s done is allow my anger to burn in my gut and bubble to the surface.
I keep thinking about that warning Caleb gave me to protect Alana, and the idea that he, as my father’s Mr. Fix It, did this to Alana pisses me the fuck off. I quietly snatch up my phone, turn off the volume, and shoot him a text: Did you do this?