Scorned Queen Part One (Wall Street Empire – Strictly Business #2) Read Online Lisa Renee Jones

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella Tags Authors: Series: Wall Street Empire - Strictly Business Series by Lisa Renee Jones
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Total pages in book: 19
Estimated words: 17343 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 87(@200wpm)___ 69(@250wpm)___ 58(@300wpm)
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“That is not good,” he says.

I laugh and finish the entire thing. “I disagree.” But even as I do, there’s this weird tingling sensation on my nape that has me glancing up to find Alexander staring at me.

I swallow hard, with the intensity of his attention.

“You’re that real estate agent family, right?”

I fight the urge to pop back and remind him one person is not a family, but I never get the chance. His head snaps to Damion and he says, “Man, what is she doing here?”

My cheeks heat, and I feel as if quicksand is all around me, and my chair might as well be sinking into the deep, dark, muddy water. Damion’s fingers curl in his palms a moment, and I can almost feel him battling his anger, which is only going to make this worse. I grab his leg and squeeze, whispering, “Please don’t.”

But there is no “don’t” to be had. Damion scoots his plate aside and says, “Leave my table, Alexander, and do not even think about sitting with me again.

Alexander pales. “What?”

“You heard me,” Damion bites out. “Leave now.”

“I meant no harm, Damion.”

“And yet, you caused it,” he says.

The two of them stare at each other for several beats and then to my utter shock, Alexander motions to his girlfriend and the lot of them stand and leave. It’s then that I realize how much power Damion possesses. I mean I knew, I did, but I’ve never seen it on display, not like this. I’m mortified at what has just happened, and I try to stand up.

Damion catches my hand, and when my eyes meet his, the punch between us is created by years of friendship, and something more, something that is as confusing as it is painful. “I need to go to the bathroom.”

“Don’t go.”

“I just—” I swallow, “I need a minute.”

He fills his lungs with a heavy breath, his broad, perfect chest expanding beneath his crisp, white shirt. I’m wearing a pink dress he’d called sweet. He’s in a suit I’d called brutal. Somehow, that now fits but is also unfair. He’s just protecting me, I know he is. I know that’s his intent.

“Damion,” I whisper, a plea for him to release me.

A heavy breath lifts his chest, and he runs the fingers of his free hand through his thick, dark hair before he releases me. I’m cold in an instant, which only sends me rushing toward the house all the faster. There are bathrooms there, and while they are probably for the elites, not people like me, I pray for a moment of privacy. I tilt my chin low, and hurry though what must be a crowd of three hundred. Once I’m inside the house, which is a monstrous white mansion that would fit five of my houses, I hurry up the stairs to an area where a map indicated a powder room.

Thankfully, at the top of the landing the door is open, and I step inside.

“Alana!”

At the sound of Damion’s voice, I step back into the hallway.

“Don’t do this,” he says, joining me, all but touching me again. “Don’t hide away and act as if you don’t belong. You’ll get into an ivy league school because of your brains. He’ll get in because of his parents’ money. That makes you better than him.”

“I don’t want to be better than him, Damion,” I proclaim. “I just want to be the best me, and to not be looked down on. And I know you were trying to protect me, but I’m embarrassed about all of it. I don’t want to be here like this.”

“Like what?”

“Like decoration.”

“It’s not like that,” he says tightly, but we both know it is, proven by the way his hand drags through his hair once again before both his hands land on his waist. “Fuck this party. Let’s go down to the beach and pick up those seashells you love.” He motions to the bathroom. “Go pee. You always have to pee. Then we’re getting out of here.”

I blink back to the present, streetlights, flickering past my window. And we had, I think. We’d gotten out of there. We’d gone to the beach and laughed over bon bons and two desserts, and the world had been right again. But deep down, we’d both known we were from two different worlds, and one day our roads would lead us two different directions. Maybe that’s why we never kissed until the day he left for college. It was easier to say goodbye that way.

I glance over at him, his strong profile in the thick darkness of the vehicle as he navigates toward his apartment. He wants me to move in with him, but how do I do that when there is still a divide? He’ll live with me but not marry me. It reads like me getting hurt again. And I’m just not sure I’m built sturdy enough to do that again, not with Damion.



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