Then Hate Me Read Online Zoe Blake, Alta Hensley

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Virgin Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
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“I can’t believe this is where you brought me.”

Olivia was fuming.

I knew the second she put it all together in her head at the suite, but she didn’t say anything the entire ride over.

Her arms were folded over her chest as she stared at the black paper like she was trying to see through it or memorize the pattern.

She thought she was mad in the car. She had no idea how mad she was going to be by the end of the night.

“Of course this is where I brought you, princess. You told me you wanted to come see the show,” I taunted as her lips twisted into a petulant pout.

Taking her arm, I led her to the steel door with the gold ram’s head.

The door opened as we approached, and a woman holding a tray of golden goblets and wearing a white tunic with her top untied and hanging down to her waist, exposing both of her very large, fake breasts whose pale nipples were clearly enjoying the rush of cold fall air, greeted us.

“Good evening, sir, madam. Tonight is an interactive event. Inside, you will find a most splendid party with nymphs and dryads and even a satyr or two. Please enjoy the food, the wine, and the activities. Later tonight, Poseidon himself will take his Theophane and claim her as his own on the dais. The rules for the party are simple: eat, drink, be merry, and let the passions of the night lead you where they may.” She handed us each a golden goblet and ushered us through the door.

The transformation was impressive.

Outside, it was an ugly concrete box like every other concrete box in the city.

Inside was a feast for the eyes.

The walls were a light sky-blue, matching the same brilliance of the waters surrounding Milos. Thick white curtains hung down, creating little alcoves to give the illusion of privacy. Ornate white plaster planters were scattered about, filled with bright green plants with pink flowers. White columns separated different raised stage-like areas where people all dressed in tuxedos and Grecian-inspired gowns talked amongst each other and with the actors, who were all fairly easy to spot since they were wearing more historically accurate garb.

I had to admit the cast had done an impressive job trying to recreate ancient Greece. There was even a small live band playing harps and lyres for background music, and it was a nice balmy eighty degrees in here. Not hot, but definitely not the cool weather outside.

“Wow,” Olivia breathed next to me.

“What are the rules?” I asked again.

“Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t let anyone know who I am or that you kidnapped me and are holding me against my will and forcing me to do depraved things.”

“Good girl.” I took a sip of my wine. It wasn’t great, but better than what was usually served at theater events. “Though, let’s be honest.” I leaned down to whisper in her ear. “You have loved every single depraved thing we have done, and I have hardly had to force you. In fact, I seem to recall you begging for some of those depraved things.”

Her lips parted, and the sensitive skin on her neck pebbled under the caress of my breath.

She didn’t say a word, just tipped her golden goblet to her lips and drained it.

Several waiters walked around in simpler tunics, carrying trays filled with wine goblets and decorated with figs and grapes. A bit on the nose, but I could still appreciate it.

I grabbed a fresh goblet for myself and then took Olivia’s hand and pulled her to one of the alcoves containing a stone bench. She attempted to sit next to me, but I pulled her onto my lap so I could whisper in her ear.

“I have to admit I was surprised this is the event your magazine wanted to cover.”

“We cover different theater pieces all the time.”

“Yes, Broadway, the ballet, opera, and even some off-Broadway. But this ...”

“What is wrong with this? It’s incredible. It’s like we are transported back in time,” she argued. I could feel the indignation radiating from behind her pretty sheep mask.

“They did a fantastic job,” I agreed. “It just seems a little wild for you, though I think we are both discovering you are far wilder than you think. I bet there is the soul of a truly insatiable woman under all that faux shyness. But a bacchanal? Even I didn’t see that coming.”

Her back stiffened. “A what?” she asked.

For a moment, I wondered if she really didn’t know what this particular theater piece was actually about.

“Olivia, what do you think this event is?”

CHAPTER 29

MARKSEN

Her fingers twisted in the loose fabric of her gown. “It’s like an interactive play.” Her voice quavered as she spoke. “There are actors in character, and they are improvising conversations with the audience.”



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