Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127146 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
The way he’s questioning me right now leaves a bad taste in my mouth.
“No offense, Lee, but I didn’t ask for advice. I asked for information, and you’ve provided me with that. We all have personal shit going on, depression, anxiety, abuse, and trauma. Life goes on. Now, please, don’t fucking question me again.”
“Look, I didn’t mean it badly. I’m just surprised. You’ve never come to me about a girl before, especially not to get dirt on one, and you have women tossing themselves at you left and right. If you need blackmail, then something tells me this one is a hellion, and taming her won’t be easy.”
I clap him on the back. “Thank you for the information. Let me worry about that. My interest in her has nothing to do with The Mill, nor is it anyone’s concern. All you need to know is that she’s not like the others, and I want her. She doesn’t know what’s good for her yet, but she will soon enough.”
“Sure, sure. Just watch yourself.” The warning hangs in the air between us, and I know what he’s referring to when he says watch yourself: My father.
He stares at me a moment, weighing something in his mind. “Take this.”
I watch as he reaches behind his computer for a moment and pulls out a black flash drive the size of a piece of gum. “Remember that job I worked on for one of the brothers last year to change the grades in his class and not get caught? You can use that to get more information on this girl if you get access to her devices. It's a simple plug-and-play that will mirror everything for you.”
Perfect. He hands me the device, and I slip it into my pocket. “Thanks for this and for the warning, but we both know if anyone can handle my father, it’s me.”
“It’s not about handling your father, Drew. It’s about surviving. Shit’s getting worse, and it’ll only be a matter of time before something happens.”
My mood sours in an instant. Conversations about my relationship with my father will do that. “Bad shit happens every day, Lee. You can’t save me. Let whatever is going to happen, happen,” I growl.
Lee frowns, and I understand his sentiment. I recognize his fear and warning. I comprehend more than anyone, but nothing can change what is already happening. I’m merely a puppet in my father’s play, and he’s pulling the strings.
“It doesn’t have to be this way—” Lee starts, but I cut him off.
“I don’t want your advice, so save it for someone else. Thanks for the drive and intel. I appreciate it. You need anything in return, you know where to find me,” I remind him and walk out of the room, stopping the conversation from going any further.
Once in the hall, I continue toward my bedroom. The door to Arie’s room is closed, and I’d stop to bust his balls as well, but I’m in too much of a pissed-off mood to consider fucking with him. Aries lives up to his name. He’s always mischievous and instigating fights. I swear he gets off on other people's pain. Not to mention, one strike of a match, and he’ll blow the entire place up. He might be gorgeous, as all the women say, but he’s the devil reincarnated.
All the way at the end of the hall is my room, and I practically kick the door in once I reach it. It's the primary suite, complete with Gothic arches and aesthetics. I tried to update the furniture so it doesn't look like Edgar Allen Poe's favorite brothel. The attached bath is completely remodeled, and I let out a long sigh as I cross the threshold. Personally, I think I have the best room in the entire house. Not only does my window overlook the front lawn but my room is also the biggest. Just beneath the window is my bed, and on the left side of the room is a sitting area and walk-in closet. To the right is the en suite bathroom. Gray and black accessories dot the interior. Cold and stark...just like my heart.
I strip out of my clothes on the way into the bathroom. The marble flooring gleams when the sunlight hits it, and I walk into the shower, which is the size of a small closet, and twist the knob all the way to hot. After a moment, the glass-enclosed stall fills with steam, and I step beneath the hot spray.
My tense muscles quake beneath the penetrating blast of water, and it feels amazing. As soon as I allow myself a moment to just stand there and think, all my thoughts turn to Maybel. It’s ridiculous how possessive my fantasies have become when I think about her. I don’t know a damn thing about her except what’s written on paper, and somehow, that’s enough for me. Somehow, my brain has justified that she is mine.