Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90114 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 451(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Everyone smiles back. Happy. In love with our love.
And there's Lucien. Happy. That I'm playing his stupid fucking game.
Happy. Firm in his knowledge that I'm faking this.
Somehow, that bastard always knows.
Chapter Thirty
Shepard
Jasmine smiles as we make rounds. Shake hands. Accept congratulations.
She plays the blushing bride well. Or maybe she's nervous. Or embarrassed by my speech. I don't know.
He's still here.
I'm still unable to breathe.
I play my part the best I can. Pretend as if I'm so overwhelmed by love I can't speak.
Colleagues believe it. Or they don't care enough to deny it.
She's beautiful, smart, determined. Who wouldn't want to marry her?
It's easier when we meet her family. She declines another drink, but she doesn't protest when her father orders a glass of whiskey. She just laughs along with her aunts. Lets them tease her about her duties as a married woman. The lingerie they'll buy her for a honeymoon. The need to make lots of grandchildren.
It's a bizarre thought, having children with Jasmine. Once upon a time, I wanted that. A family of my own. A normal life. A job, a car, a house in the suburbs.
Then that bastard changed everything. Now, it's impossible to imagine.
What if I followed in his footsteps?
It's out of the question. But then that doesn't matter. Her family doesn't need to know the terms of our arrangement.
So I nod and say something about how beautiful our children will be if they get their mother's eyes.
And she says something about how ruthless they'll be if they get their father's negotiation skills.
And her aunts say something about how cute they'll be. The first bi-racial kids in the family. They want to welcome them. Invite them to participate in both sides of their culture.
What is that like? To grow up split in half, not knowing where you belong?
There's no reason to consider it. I can't have children. I can't risk passing on this curse.
Finally, the party breaks up. Lucien and Charles leave without a word. Thank fuck.
Jasmine kisses me goodbye. Insists on riding home with her father. On making sure he gets home okay.
I offer them the limo. Send her aunts home with Lock.
Knowing Lock… I'm sure he'd make that literal if they invited him.
No, he values his job too much for that. Or at least, that's what I like to believe. Money buys a lot of loyalty, but it never gets to one hundred percent. Some things aren't for sale.
Ian tries to invite me out for a drink to celebrate—surely, I can bust out the sparkling apple cider for this kind of occasion—but I decline. He means the shit about the apple cider.
He won't let me order bourbon.
He can't stop me. No one can stop me from walking into the nearest hotel bar and demanding a double.
No one can stop me from throwing this opportunity away.
That's all it takes. One drink and she can leave.
One drink and she will leave.
That can't happen. No matter how badly I need to dull the sharp edges.
I push the thought aside on the way home. But it's impossible. By the time I step foot in my apartment, it's the only thing in my head.
I need a drink.
I need a drink.
I need a drink.
It screams at me. The edges get sharp. My thoughts turn ugly.
Something to stop it. Anything to stop. Anything to make me forget I'm still under that bastard's thumb.
My fucking staff is too effective. There's nothing in the kitchen or my office.
Key's room is locked.
Jasmine's is empty.
But that crimson bed—it gives me ideas. For a way to erase these thoughts. A way to feel in control.
The only way.
I go to my office.
It's easier to breathe. He infects the room less.
But he still infects it.
Knowing he's out there, finding ways to pull my strings, finding ways to lord this over me—
I'm not sure what's worse. Him winning. Proving he controls me again.
Or him deciding that Jasmine truly does love me. Thinking I truly love her.
If he knows he can use her to hurt me—
He will.
I don't know how Nick stands it. I'm sure he'd say something about how I'm letting that bastard control me. How he refuses to do that.
It's a nice idea, but he's wrong. There's no getting around it. That bastard will control me until the day I die. Then after.
Somehow, he will.
I try to work, but it's useless. My head is too full. My thoughts are too sharp.
I don't feel a moment of relief until the front door opens.
Soft footsteps move closer. Then a knock.
"Can I come in?" she asks.
"I'll come out." No one comes into my office.
I stand. Shut down my computer. Lock the drawer where I keep this awful contract.
She's standing there in the main room, moonlight casting highlights on her tan skin.
She looks gorgeous. And worried.
"Are you okay?" she asks.
"It's nothing."
Her eyes search mine. "You didn't ask me about the date. I realize you don't have to consult me given our terms, but—"