Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 171(@200wpm)___ 137(@250wpm)___ 114(@300wpm)
"I love you, little girl." I trace her damp cheeks, wiping away the trails of spent tears as we come down together, tangled tightly together, precisely where we belong. "Always."
Chapter Nine
Davina
"Davina."
I glance up from the file in front of me, fighting a groan as Stanley stops in front of the desk Micah had set up for me. Sharon pauses typing beside me, casting a furtive glance in my direction before quickly bending her head back to her own work.
"I need to speak to you privately."
I cast a quick glance around, searching for an excuse to blow him off, knowing Micah won't like this…but Micah isn't here right now. He and Gemma are in a meeting with a client. Some sort of financial emergency that couldn't wait.
I wasn't paying attention to the details. We only have one more day here before we're back in our office, and I still have way too much work to finish before then—mostly because Stanley has argued over every minute detail of every single contract even when Micah made it clear that he didn't want certain things in them.
I don't think he realizes that Micah's on the verge of firing him. Or maybe he does, and he just doesn't care at this point. I don't know. But my boss really hates my daddy. The feeling is mutual. I think Micah would have fired him on day one, except firing him would have meant leaving me to face Stanley's wrath on my own.
I'm already dreading Monday. It's going to be brutal. Honestly, I think I'm going to beg Corey to work his magic and transfer me before then. I know nothing about criminal law, and the thought of working with some of his clients is literally terrifying, but I'd rather face my fear than face Stanley alone on Monday morning.
It's not going to go well.
"Hello?" He snaps his fingers in front of my face like I'm a disobedient animal instead of a human being. "I said I need to speak to you in private."
"Of course." I paste a bright smile on my face and hit save on the file before pushing my chair back and reluctantly climbing to my feet.
Stanley turns on his heel and marches across the office, stabbing the button for the elevator.
I turn and make a face at Sharon.
"Good luck," she mouths.
I nod, swallowing the lump of fear in my throat, before I follow Stanley into the elevator. The door closes behind me with an ominous thud, trapping me inside this small, confined space with him. My heart beats a frantic rhythm against my ribcage as I keep my gaze trained anywhere but on him.
He doesn't speak until we reach the parking garage, a level of hell with concrete walls and harsh fluorescent lights.
"Start talking, Davina," he spits out my name like it's a curse. The harshness of his voice echoes off the cold concrete walls.
I swallow hard, staring at him. "I don't… I'm not sure what this is about," I say carefully.
"I saw you going into the Sterling Rope last night," he says.
I gasp, my eyes widening in horror. Micah and I did go to the club last night. We had drinks at the bar with Gemma and Bronx and that was it…at least until we got home. Yet I know Stanley won't believe me if I tell him that.
His voice slices through the silence like a cold, cruel blade. "What the fuck were you thinking?"
I wince at his harsh words, hating how they make me feel small and insignificant—a feeling that's become unfamiliar ever since Micah came into my life.
"I went to a bar, Stanley," I say calmly. "That's not illegal."
He scoffs, his disdain palpable. "You and Micah? You're letting him…" he trails off, unable to find the words. His face distorts in disgust.
"Yes," I say simply, offering him no further explanation. I know anything I say will only fuel his rage, and there's no sense in denying that I'm with Micah. If he's already seen us together, he knows. I'm not going to lie about it.
His laughter bounces around us—dark and derisive. "What does he do to you? Tie you up? Let his buddies take turns? Beat you?" His crude words turn my stomach.
I force myself to hold his gaze. "It's not like that."
Stanley doesn't deserve an explanation, but there's something so satisfying about standing up to him after months of his condescension.
"It's about trust and respect," I add quietly.
"Respect?" He sneers, flicking ash onto the concrete floor. "Just wait until they find out about you and your little fetish…"
He has no right to judge me because I choose to embrace my sensuality and express it differently than he does.
"I'm not ashamed of who I am or who I love," I tell him, my voice trembling slightly. He looks taken aback by my sudden boldness, but he quickly recovers, his face hardening into a mask of bitterness.