Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56280 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 281(@200wpm)___ 225(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
“Good morning, Attorney Spears.”
“Good morning, Attorney Fawkes.” Fredericka managed to keep her voice steady even as she wondered if she had somehow stepped into another dimension. In every meeting, the senior partner had always referred to her as Attorney Smith, and no one had ever found the courage to correct him.
As she made her way to her office, the same thing happened over and over, with other lawyers going out their way to talk to her.
By her count, she had been waylaid fifteen times—-
Fourteen times more than the people who remembered to greet her on her birthday last year, Fredericka thought disbelievingly. And at that time, only the janitor had remembered to greet her.
When she finally reached her office, she quickly closed the door and shook her head to herself. That was incredibly weird—-
And then she saw it.
An elegant arrangement of white roses on her desk, its long stems visible within the crystal vase, and a pristine white envelope tucked between the flowers.
Her heart started hammering, and her hands were trembling hard as she reached for the envelope. It was unsealed, and she had a feeling that Selena had already taken a look at its contents. When she pulled it out, the first thing she saw was the golden insignia embossed on the card—-
Grachyov Enterprises, Fredericka thought. In California, the logo representing the Grachyovs’ corporate empire was as familiar to locals as Nike’s check mark was to the rest of the world, and she knew that this was the reason behind everyone’s unexpected change of attitude towards her.
Her gaze moved downwards, and she gulped at the billionaire’s one-liner message.
Have dinner with me tonight.
Your friend,
S.G.
Chapter Six
Sergei
“Your bill, sir.”
Taking the leather folder from the waiter, Sergei handed it to Fredericka, smiling slyly. “Friends, right?”
She snatched the bill from him with a glare. “Cheapskate,” she muttered under her breath after reluctantly handing over her credit card.
But this only made the billionaire smile lazily. It had been two months since they had started going out as so-called friends, and if anything, his fascination over Fredericka Spears had only deepened, bordering on obsession.
In the past, watching his youngest brother react with possessive jealousy whenever he saw Seri in the company of another man had amused him to no end. He had chalked it down to Vassi always being the most volatile of them three and had privately thought that such a thing would never happen to him.
But fate proved him wrong, the billionaire mused, by sending a gray-eyed redhead to torment him.
When it was time to leave, he stood up first to pull her chair out for her, and Fredericka flashed him an embarrassed smile of thanks.
Practical yet feminine.
The words once again fleeted in his mind, a description that he now knew was perfectly apt. He liked how she was fiercely independent when it came to her work but without allowing it to overshadow her femininity. Most women he dated were either one or the other, career-driven or drunk on their vanity. Both types of women were only able to entertain him inside the bedroom, but outside they either bored or disgusted him.
“Are you heading back to the office after this?” Fredericka asked as they stepped out of the restaurant.
“No.” His brief answer had her glancing at him in bemusement, but even, so he refused to elaborate. She was better off not knowing the truth. Walking her to the parking lot, he smiled down at her, saying softly, “I’ll see you tomorrow, da?”
Her obedient nod pleased him, and Sergei lowered his head, intending to place a friendly goodbye kiss on her cheek. But then he inhaled the sweet mild scent of her fragrance, and just like that white-hot desire laced his blood, arousal stirring his loins.
Blyad.
His lips touched one silky soft cheek and stayed there, lingering, every cell in his brain urging him to move his mouth until it covered hers.
“S-Sergei.”
Fredericka’s choked whisper forced him back to his senses, and he drew away reluctantly.
“You need to stop doing that,” she muttered.
“I can’t help it,” he answered in a deliberately light tone, knowing that it wasn’t the right time to let her know that he wasn’t joking. It was the truth, and it was why thirty minutes later he was in Madeline’s house, with the model bent over her dining table while the billionaire fucked her from behind.
“Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Every gasp was punctuated by the slapping sounds of their thrusting bodies, with Sergei pounding hard into her. He was determined to fuck both of them out of their minds, just as he had been doing for the past two months.
Squeezing his eyes shut, he squeezed Madeline’s ass hard, all the while pretending it was Fredericka he was fucking.
He knew it was cruel and sick, knew it was dishonorable and deceitful, but he no longer gave a damn.