Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 178117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 891(@200wpm)___ 712(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 178117 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 891(@200wpm)___ 712(@250wpm)___ 594(@300wpm)
I push myself off her and march to the gate, leaving her in a puddle of her own wetness.
Just like she deserves.
PENELOPE
I’m sweating like crazy already, and I haven’t even gotten to the dinner part of the night.
God, how does he do this every single time?
I was almost hoping he would actually go through with it.
I swallow away the lump in my throat and adjust my dress again, which got all scrunched up from the way Felix just casually swiped his finger along my pussy. But worst of all is the fact that I was already wet, and he fucking knew.
Fuck that fucking arrogant smug face of his.
I really have to stop letting him get to me. Even though I know, deep down, he’s as right about me as I am about him. The people you hate are the people who know you the best, and that’s exactly why you hate them.
I sigh out loud and make my way to the property's gate.
The place is giant and opulent. Not that I’m amazed, considering who Dylan’s parents are and what they do. Not their real jobs, but the secret society hiding behind it is what brings in all the money. I don’t need to see it in action to know it’s happening right under our noses. Half of the people who go to Spine Ridge U are family of criminals.
I walk through the rose garden along the pebble path up to the big road where a ton of cars are parked underneath an open garage. A lady stands at the front door smiling happily.
“Welcome back, Mr. Caruso!”
“Hi,” he says awkwardly, as he sneaks past her as quick as he can. How unlike him.
“And hello, Mr. King and Mr. Rivera.”
“Save it,” Felix barks as he walks past her.
The lady’s face looks like she’s just stood in the snow for an hour.
I glower at Alistair, who simply shrugs. “That’s him.”
Does he have to be such a asshole to everyone, though?
We go inside the mansion, and I gawk at all the beautiful tapestries, the vintage paintings and artwork scattered through the hallway, and all the expensive-looking wines in the back. Dylan’s father is a collector, that’s for sure.
“Welcome, welcome,” a voice calls from the back. Dylan’s father approaches us with a big smile. “Your mom’s already finished dinner, so we’re just waiting on you in the dining room.”
“Mom finished dinner?” Dylan scoffs. “We have cooks for that.”
“Dylan,” his father warns and leans in, “do not insult your mother.”
He rolls his eyes. “I’m just surprised. That’s all. Can’t wait.”
Dylan passes by his father as if he’s got a stick up his ass.
“What’s with him?” I whisper to Alistair.
“He hates family things. Don’t ask.”
“I can’t wait to taste all the amazing dishes she created,” Lana tells Dean Caruso, and it makes his face beam.
“Thank you. At least someone’s excited,” he says, and he beckons us back to the room. “Let’s go inside.”
We follow Dean Caruso to the room, but I bump into Felix on the way, who’s stopped midway through the doorway.
“Felix …” A low voice emanates from the room beyond, and I peek over his shoulder to see a man sitting behind a large dinner table, his chiseled face outlined by thick, black stubble, hair slick and combed back, eyes narrow and partially blocked by a pair of glasses, his posture self-assured. Completely the opposite of Felix in every way, yet that voice sounds … similar.
Felix clears his throat. “Dad.”
Aha.
Wow, I did not see that one coming. They don’t even look alike.
Felix marches over to the opposite side of the room and parks his ass down on a chair as far away as possible, and it makes me so goddamn curious as to why.
“Welcome, welcome, everyone,” a lady says as she waltzes in through the door in the back of the room carrying two big plates filled with delicious food. Her black hair is tied into a curly knot, and a small but extravagant hat sits on top. That must be Dylan’s mom. “Food’s almost ready. You can sit wherever you like. Feel free to make yourselves at home!”
“Thank you, Mrs. Caruso,” Lana says.
Mrs. Caruso has a bright smile. Her face looks almost pristine, and it almost makes me want to ask her about her skincare routine.
“That looks lovely, Jeong-Suk,” Felix’s father says as she puts down the plates.
“Oh, this isn’t even half of what I have prepared,” she muses, giggling. “C’mon everyone, sit, sit!”
Alistair and Dylan find a seat near Dylan’s father, but I can’t help but swerve to Felix’s side and sit down beside him.
“So that guy is actually your dad?” I ask.
“What about it?” Felix grabs a knife and starts twiddling with it.
“Nothing. I’m just … surprised.”
“Surprised?” He side-eyes me.
“Well, you two look nothing alike,” I reply.
“No.” He turns around again, like he’s trying to avoid having to even talk to anyone, let alone me.