Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77913 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
The little shit was being spiteful. It was the cold bucket of water I needed to quit this game she was playing with me.
I was in control.
Always.
With a heated glare, I flipped the script on her. I gripped onto her throat and pinned her against the mirror behind her.
Her breathing hitched, thinking she was getting what she wanted.
Me.
We locked eyes, realizing the compromising position I held her in.
Her tits on my chest.
Her pussy inches away from my cock.
Despite losing control for a minute, she needed to understand this wouldn’t happen again.
“This what you want, darlin’?”
Her gaze widened, bright and bold. “Not as much as you do.”
“Is that right?”
“Yes.”
“And what do you think I want, Evie?”
She swallowed hard. “Me.”
Letting her go, I backed away. “What I want is for you to get dressed.”
She flinched, and the rejection was clear across her expression. I should have left, but I couldn’t take the look in her stare.
It was too painful.
“Let’s get one thing straight—what I want and what I have to do are two different things.”
“Or we could just tell Jax the truth. You just proved you still want me. Try to deny it—I dare you.”
The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her, but it was the only choice I had left.
“Sweetheart, you’re just another girl who threw herself at me.” I yanked the towel off the rack and threw it at her. “Don’t be so fucking desperate. It’s not a good look.”
She grimaced, catching the towel and wrapping it around her chest.
“Now put some fucking clothes on. I’m driving you home.”
I turned around and left. Although, once again, it was the last thing…
I wanted to do.
Chapter 14
Caleb
Now: Three weeks later
I felt like an intruder in my own home, seeing as tonight was the first time I made it back before midnight. I bought a five thousand square foot house in Barcelona. Years ago, I applied for my citizenship, knowing I’d eventually open an international office in Spain.
My building was in the city, but I wanted my kids to have a yard and a pool for their activities. I didn’t want to change their routine more than I already had with up and moving us to another country for a few months.
I wish I could tell you our divorce was hard on them, however, I’d be lying. Most of the time, Tessa lived in her own little world. The bit of attention she did give our children wasn’t any different than her relationship with them now.
Our divorce settlement and alimony set her up for life. I was paying her more than my lawyers advised. I assumed she wouldn’t fight me for custody of our kids if I paid her off, so to speak.
I was wrong.
Now we were in a heated battle over her demanding joint custody. I refused to allow that to happen. I was paying a fuck load of money to my lawyers and private investigators to catch her in anything we could use against her in court.
She knew she was being watched, careful with her every move.
I’d barely seen my kids—or Evie, for that matter—since we’d arrived in Spain. My daily life was consumed with my agency. It was one thing after another. I was being pulled in a hundred different directions. My employees were the best of the best, and already my agency was jam-packed with clients needing representation.
Everyday a new challenge presented itself that I had to personally handle, leaving very little time for anything else. The only way I’d see my children was through the cameras that were set up all over the property. Except for Evie’s bedroom. I had to talk myself out of that one, craving to see what she did when she was alone.
I loved watching the carefree happiness she brought into our house.
The estate was beautiful, everything my kids deserved. Seven bedrooms, nine bathrooms, two living rooms, a theater room, a huge ass kitchen that was actually being used by Evie, although I hired a staff—a cook being one of them. From the first day in the house, Evie took it upon herself to cook for everyone.
Including me.
Every night, I’d open the fridge, and there would be a plate of food waiting for me. I was used to having a cook, growing up with one and then hiring one for myself as an adult, but I’d never had a woman cook for me before, so Evie going above and beyond wasn’t overlooked by me. I appreciated her effort in making sure I ate. Despite saying she hated me, her actions always spoke louder than words.
I loved that she hadn’t changed. My girl was still in there, waiting for me to bring her home.
I walked into the kitchen, finding Evie alone.
“What is that amazing smell?”
She gasped, placing her hand over her chest. “You just scared the crap out of me.” Turning the music off from her phone, she was shocked by my presence. “What time is it?”