Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 106596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106596 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Envied her because she had a real family, or whatever was left of it.
And pitied her because I couldn’t quite let go, and I didn’t do love. Only hate and anger and revenge.
One thing was for sure, Judith Humphry and Lily Davis weren’t cut from the same cloth, and I wanted to wear only one of them.
One girl disarmed me, the other fucked me up, and over.
One girl was loyal, the other shallow and empty.
One claimed she was mine, but it was the other I wanted to own.
“We need to talk.” I stormed into Célian’s office when the clock hit nine am.
Brianna, who had been waiting in an invisible line by his door to see him, had clutched her iPad to her chest and stared at me with sheer alarm when she saw me advance toward his office and walk in without knocking. Célian was already behind his desk, sipping his one of three morning coffees, chewing his mint gum, and flipping through the daily newspapers, not sparing me a look. He wore his indifference like chipped armor, a white knight with a very dark soul.
“Disagree, but you’re already here, so you might as well spit it out.”
“First of all, did you know Brianna is waiting for you outside?” I threw a thumb behind my shoulder, cocking an eyebrow.
“I did, and she can knock.”
“She’s scared of you.”
“You’d be wise to be the same,” he whiplashed, still not looking up to meet my gaze. “Are you here to talk about Brianna, Miss Humphry?”
Damn him. He sounded like Harvey Specter on speed. Only crueler. And ten times handsomer. If Célian met chivalry in a dark alley, he would beat it to death, then find its sister, generosity, and kill her too.
“I came here to tell you I found out, and I’m pissed.”
“Explain, and save me the ambiguity.”
“Are you too precious for eye contact anymore? Is that now saved for the moments I’m writhing under you and you want to see me vulnerable?”
I couldn’t believe the words had left my mouth. Shakily, too. I glanced back. Brianna wasn’t in the hallway anymore. Phew.
Célian dragged his gaze up slowly, his cobalt blue eyes extra frosty on this warm day.
“Do. What?” He highlighted every word.
“I know you paid my father’s medical bill. All of it. You’re not my sugar daddy, Célian. I appreciate your good intentions, but I don’t need help. I’m not a damsel in distress. I don’t need anyone to save me.”
I don’t want you to pity me. I don’t want you to look at me as anything less than an equal. And I don’t want you to be engaged. In fact, I especially don’t want you to be engaged and pay for my things. It makes me feel like the other woman.
Those were all the things I wanted to say but knew I never would. It wasn’t anyone’s fault but mine that I’d agreed to be put in this position, or that I still craved him like a junkie, even though he was a drug that could kill me.
He leaned back in his seat, his index fingers tapping.
“Do you have any way to prove it was me?” he asked.
Was he kidding me? There were no other suspects. The money hadn’t simply fallen from a tree straight into the wide, black hole called my debt.
“Are you really going to play that card?” I folded my arms over my chest.
He shrugged. “Not many cards I can play. I’ll take what I can get.”
I laughed, despite still being furious. He was goofy and charming when he wanted to be. Unfortunately, most times he was content with being a jerk.
“Now I feel like I owe you, and I hate it.”
“Don’t. I didn’t pay your medical and student debt because I’m fucking you. I paid them to unfuck you.”
“You paid my student loan, too?” My eyes were ready to pop out of their sockets and roll on the floor. I still stood by his open door, trying hard not to have a mental breakdown. It was flattering, but also infuriating, this assuming I needed him to save the day, that he had the power to make my problems go away like some kinky fairy godfather.
He looked down, flipping another page of the newspaper in front of him. “You were riding a full scholarship and living at home. It was hardly a substantial amount.”
“For you,” I gritted. “Not a substantial amount for you.”
“Tuck your pride back in, sweetheart. You’re coming off as a little ungrateful, and it’s unflattering.”
“Screw you, Célian.”
“Please tell me that’s an invitation.”
“I hate you!” I yelled in his face, stomping—actually stomping, me, a grown woman. He looked up and raked his eyes over my body quietly. Our gazes halted on my Chucks. Red. Anger, passion, war.
“Do you, now?”
He had no business butting into my life more than I had allowed him to, more than I had willingly shared with him. I didn’t share this with anyone. There was a reason why I’d never told him about my debt or my family life. Not even about Dad.