Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
I’d agreed to do this to prove I wasn’t like them. Not to turn my soul over to the devil.
Fuck.
Sweat rolled down my spine as I slowly turned to face the Master Jeweler.
I did my best to smile like a human, but the moment the suave, self-composed asshole—who was rumoured to have singlehandedly trafficked over a thousand people—met my eyes, he knew.
He knew, just like my half-brother had known.
I might want to be good.
I might have fought all my life to remain a worthwhile citizen who pretended to be like everyone else, cared for his sickly mother, and paid his taxes on time, but the truth was…I wasn’t.
I was a monster.
Just like this bastard.
And I officially signed my death warrant by shaking his hand and stepping willingly into his den.
Chapter Two
………………….
Ily
“COME ON, Il, JUST ONE more drink.”
I looked at the sparkling disco ball above and said a silent prayer to whoever would listen. Please give me the strength not to break up with him. Not tonight. Tonight is his birthday. He’s a spoiled little birthday boy who smudged my carefully applied makeup with a blowjob. A blowjob I wasn’t all that keen on giving him, by the way—
“Are you listening to me?” Sam waved his hand in front of my face. “Helllllooo. Dammit, Ily, you’ve got that spaced-out look in your eyes again.”
Was it my fault that I found my own thoughts more entertaining these days?
How had we ended up like this?
Four years together and every day became more and more of a struggle. I’d had such high hopes that Paris would rekindle whatever spark we had. But alas…I spent my final meagre pounds on a dream.
“Jesus, woman. You gonna blink at me like a drunken owl all night or open your mouth and say something?”
I snapped out of my thoughts, smacking my coral-painted lips together. “My mouth was plenty open back at the hotel. So open, in fact, you were able to put something inside it if I recall.”
He sighed heavily, just like I knew he would. “It’s my birthday. A blowjob is tradition.”
“Not our tradition.”
“Every year, you’ve given me one.”
“By choice, Sam, not by force.”
“Force?” His eyebrows shot up. The reddish-brown mop on his head glistened from the product he’d used to tame it off his high forehead. His green eyes glittered with anger. “I have never forced you. Not once.”
“I said I was feeling queasy. That the pastrami from lunch wasn’t sitting right. Yet you moaned and groaned and guilt-tripped me so badly that it was easier to drop to my knees and say ‘ah!’ rather than keep arguing.”
The anger in his eyes deepened. “You and I both know that your excuses when it comes to sex are getting more and more common.” His voice rose a few octaves, supposedly imitating me. “Oh, not tonight, Sam, I’ve started my period. Oh sorry, didn’t I tell you? I agreed to go out with Alicia tonight. Oh shit, I have to work late—”
“Working late is a legitimate reason to refuse—”
“Ever since you got that promotion, you’ve made it almost impossible for me to spread your legs.” He pouted and crossed his arms. He looked like a petulant brat instead of a twenty-five-year-old pharmaceutical sales rep.
I honestly couldn’t remember why I once believed I was in love with him. Once upon a time, I found his pale skin, faint freckles, and cultured upbringing a turn-on. When he’d walked into the Tower of London gift shop with his then girlfriend (a mousy girl who cringed from the meat-eating crows), I couldn’t take my eyes off him.
Seemed the feeling was mutual because he’d come back the next day and the next, which didn’t make any sense because he lived in London and had been force-fed England’s morbid medieval history since the crib.
Turned out, I was the special attraction.
For a while, he’d been sweet and mostly doting but the past year, he’d hardened and turned a little cruel. His gaslighting had also gotten terribly out of control.
“I’m proud of that promotion.” My chin tipped up like it always did when I got snippy. “It took years for them to notice me.”
“You’re a glorified office manager.”
I didn’t bother telling him how hard I worked for more responsibility. How most positions within the heavily fortified fortress were only given to the beefeaters and their kin. What I really wanted to do was work with the priceless crown jewels, but only three people in the entire world were allowed to touch them. Knowing I’d never put my gemmology qualification into use—unless I somehow became the queen—didn’t make my dreams any less real.
“Ah, I see where this is going,” Sam muttered, planting his hands on his hips like he always did when arguing with me. He believed it made him look important. I believed it made him look like an arrogant ass. “You’re still hanging on to the idea that one day you’ll be allowed to fondle their crowns and sceptres and whatever other diamond-encrusted baubles they have under lock and key.”