Total pages in book: 180
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 168587 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 843(@200wpm)___ 674(@250wpm)___ 562(@300wpm)
I shake my head. “Oh, I—”
“I heard that he paid millions—with an s—for it.”
I laugh at that. “No…”
Her face goes serious, and I stop talking. “A red diamond is the rarest diamond color in the world,” she informs me.
“Oh,” I say. It reminds me of a bleeding heart with its intense crimson color. Or blood since we had to bleed for one another. I highly doubt Tyson picked this ring for anything other than a sick reminder that I’m bound to him until one of us dies.
“They are also the most expensive diamond per carat of all colored diamonds,” the other adds.
“Ladies,” their mother snaps, entering the room, and they scramble back to face her.
“Yes, Mother?” they ask in unison.
“Do not bother Mrs. Crawford,” She scolds them.
“Oh, they weren’t bothering me,” I assure her.
She gives me a tight smile and I avert my eyes, afraid I’m now in trouble. “Let’s get started.” She claps her hands.
As they start pulling out dresses for me to look at, I examine my ring. It really is gorgeous. But they have to be rumors. Tyson wouldn’t go that far out of his way to have a ring made for me or pay that much money for a woman he doesn’t love.
TYSON
I’m in my study when my cell rings. I’m about to turn the fucking thing off, not in the mood to deal with it tonight. “Hello?” I ask, holding in a sigh when I see who it is.
“Son.” My father’s voice sounds just as dead as it always has. “Your mother wanted me to call.” Of course, she did. I haven’t heard directly from my mother since she found out that I wasn’t going to live the life that her and my father raised me for. “She’s expecting to meet our daughter-in-law tonight.”
I love how he said she. Because I know he doesn’t give a fuck. “We’ll be at the house of Lords,” I say.
“I will let her know.” He hangs up. Nothing else for him to say.
He could have done that in a text. I drop my phone to my desk and run my hands through my hair as a knock sounds on my door. “Come in.”
William enters. “Can I get you anything, sir?”
“I’ll take a whiskey. Neat,” I say. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure, sir.” He goes to leave but turns back around to face me. “Mrs. Crawford found her things in the spare room, sir.”
“How did she find them?” I growl.
“I apologize, sir. I had left the door open.”
So what if she knows I brought her things here? It doesn’t mean anything. Her parents already had her stuff packed up, ready to be delivered to Luke’s house. I just intercepted them. “Thanks for letting me know.” I wave it off, and he shuts the door.
My cell goes off once more and I grind my teeth. “What?” I bark out, not even bothering to look and see who it is.
“Hello to you too,” the voice says coldly on the other end.
I pull the phone from my ear to see BLOCKED on my screen. “You better have something for calling me.”
“I do.”
“Well?” I’m not in the mood for games tonight. At least, not the kind they want to play. I do, however, have some that I’m going to play with my wife. And they’re keeping me from that.
“I’m calling to confirm.”
I lean back in my seat. Surprised but also pissed off about it. My body heat instantly rising as I fist my hand around the phone. “And?” I growl through gritted teeth.
“No location at this time,” he answers before hanging up, knowing I don’t want to speak to him if he has nothing to give me.
I let the phone drop to my desk and then slam my hands down onto it. I fucking knew it!
My door opens, and William enters, setting my drink on the desk.
“Bring me another one, please,” I say, knowing I’ll need several tonight.
TWENTY-SEVEN
LAIKYN
When he walks in, I’m standing in front of the mirror about to apply my mascara.
I pause, straightening my back, and turn to face him. He’s leaning up against the doorframe to the bathroom. One hand is shoved into the pocket of his slacks; the other holds a glass with nothing but ice left in it. He’s already finished the drink.
He’s dressed in a three-piece suit; every inch is black, even the silk tie. His blue eyes are on mine, and it makes me squirm, wondering what he’s thinking.
“Did you pick out a dress?” he asks, his voice sounding on edge.
“Yes,” I answer softly. Unsure. I hate that I hope he likes it. I feel like him giving me the choice was a test. And I’m afraid to fail. I had way more than a few options to pick from. They brought an entire store to the house full of designer dresses and heels.