Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 66298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66298 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
I wanted to break her the way she broke me.
“I don’t want you to be like this.” Her tearful voice came from behind me. “I don’t want you to be this angry.”
“Too fucking bad. When someone betrays my trust, that’s it. It’s gone.” I kept walking, heading to the front door so I could get rid of her for good. “And I wouldn’t be so angry if I didn’t have to look at you right now.” I reached the front door and tore it open. “Disappear, Josephine. Don’t speak to me again. When we run into each other, pretend you don’t know me. Because I’ll pretend I don’t even remember your name.” I grabbed her by the elbow and shoved her through the threshold before I slammed the door.
Once the solid wood was between us, I took a deep breath and controlled my temper. My knuckles still craved to slam into something. My body wanted to demolish the foundations of this castle. I wanted to go back out there and make Josephine understand just how much she ruined me.
I finally turned around, needing to drink this problem away so I wouldn’t think about it anymore.
London stood at the bottom of the stairs, wearing leggings and a pink sweater. Her hair was thrown into a bun, and her face was free of makeup. First thing in the morning, she always looked like a flower that had just blossomed. For a second, her beauty made me forget my anger. Her emerald eyes made me forget my pain. Her noticeable curves, even in baggy clothes, made me think about our nights together.
But the sympathy in her eyes fueled me all over again.
I walked away from her, refusing to speak about the conversation she’d just witnessed. I refused to answer the hundreds of questions running through her mind. I refused to answer to anyone but myself.
Josephine had already turned me into a fool—for the whole world to see. I didn’t trust anyone because no one was trustworthy. I was always one step ahead of my enemies, intent on making them into the fools. My heart was dead, along with everyone else I cared about. Now all I wanted was revenge for all the things that happened to me.
And one day, I would get it.
20
London
Crewe avoided me all day, hiding out somewhere else in the castle. He didn’t join me for meals or conversation. He didn’t want me for sex.
I gave him his space for as long as I could. But my curiosity was getting the best of me. His relationship with Josephine was far more serious than I had realized. And she must have done something terrible to him because I’d never seen him that mad.
Not once.
I searched the castle to find him, and eventually found him in the second drawing room on the opposite side of the castle. He was sitting alone, reading a book while his cigar burned in the ashtray and a half bottle of scotch sat beside him.
I crept into the room so he wouldn’t notice me. But when I was fifteen feet away, he heard my footsteps and looked up. He watched me with eyes blacker than coal. Nothing about his exterior was welcoming. He threatened me with his silence, commanding me to leave the room or there would be consequences.
“I’m not here to talk.” I slowly crept closer, stopping at the chair near the window.
His shoulders relaxed slightly when he heard my declaration.
I moved between his knees then crawled into his lap, pushing the book aside so there was plenty of room.
When he let the book drop to the ground, I knew I was welcome.
I straddled his hips then ran my hands up his chest, feeling the powerful muscle underneath. I looked into his dark eyes and didn’t spot the warmth I was accustomed to. I just saw an angry man.
I wanted to know every detail about what happened with his former lover, but he wouldn’t give me any answers. I would have to wait for another time or uncover them on my own. But if I had any chance of getting this man to feel something for me, I had to be his confidant, not his interrogator.
I eyed the cigar on the table and grabbed it from the ashtray. I brought it to my lips and inhaled.
His lips softened into a smile.
I pulled the smoke into my lungs but then felt my chest convulse in protest. I turned my head and coughed everything out, feeling my lungs scream from the intrusion.
Crewe chuckled. “Takes practice.”
I downed his scotch to clear my throat, and while the liquor burned, it was nothing in comparison to the smoke. “That doesn’t even taste good. I don’t get it.”
“It’ll grow on you.” He took the cigar out of my hand and inhaled it into his lungs. Then he turned his head and blew it out, like a man in a tobacco ad. He dropped it back into the ashtray. “You finally found me, huh?”