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 let out a frustrated sigh. “I hadn’t planned on it.”

It was the truth. I wasn’t going to lie and say yes since that would signal to her that she had nothing to lose, making her reckless. On the other hand, I still needed her to think it was a possibility. Making her just scared enough to be easier to handle. Currently, the thought of killing her hadn’t even entered my mind. I also hadn’t planned on kissing her either, but I supposed “accidents happen.”

She didn’t say anything else.

I could barely make out her face in the dim light.

Her lips trembled as a tear slid down her face.

If I had a heart, it would’ve broken for her.

She was silent the rest of the trip.

As we got closer to my cabin, I focused on my revenge plan.

That was what I had to do, ignore the whimpering girl at my side and think of the plan.

She was nothing, only a means to an end.

I repeated that over and over in my head. I had to be cold, cruel, and heartless or she would try to walk all over me just like her brother.

Except unlike Luc, she would try to appeal to my softer side.

I couldn’t let her in, I couldn’t allow her to have that power.

She was nothing, only a means to an end.

CHAPTER 9

MARKSEN

“Just do as you are told, and you will be fine,” I said as we pulled up to the house.

I got out and offered her a hand to help her to her feet, a force of habit.

Her fingers trembling, she took my hand.

I watched her face as she observed her surroundings.

I didn’t know why, but I wanted her to be impressed by this house.

She took it all in, the single-story cottage-style home, the white trim on cedar shingles, the small porch. It wasn’t a lot, but it was mine and it was meticulously designed and maintained.

I picked her up again, to save her feet from having to walk on the sharp, crushed-shell gravel.

This time, I chose not to throw her over my shoulder, but to hold her close in my arms. The symbolism of a husband carrying his wife over the threshold of their new home was lost on me until the very last second. I set her down with more force than I intended on the hardwood floor inside the living room.

The place was a work of art with beautiful Art Nouveau detailing carved into the wood mantel. There was also a large window that let in plenty of natural light during the day, the beautiful stained glass details of tall grass blowing in the wind over a sandy bluff at the top transforming daylight into sparkling beams of tans, blues, and greens on sunny days.

I really was proud of this place.

When I bought it, it was in shambles. I supposed it would have been fine for some small, middle-class family. Maybe a struggling author would have used it to escape the world and write their next book. But I needed something up to my standards. So I set about personally refurbishing it, room by room.

The living room was first, repairing the hardwood, refinishing the fireplace, and painting the walls.

Some things I hired people for, like the fireplace, and others I did myself, like the painting. I had read somewhere that having a hands-on project was good for stress, so this was what I did. The bathroom was completed not too long ago. I had completely torn it out and re-done it, removing the closet from one of the bedrooms to expand it, making it big enough for a massive shower stall with a waterfall showerhead.

It was while I painted that I’d gotten the idea for how I would take Olivia and make her pay.

The mindless monotony of that particular chore allowed my mind to wander and come up with some exceptionally creative plans.

“Where am I staying?” she asked.

I hadn’t even thought of that when I brought her here. There was only one bed. Only one bedroom, the second having been turned into my office.

I should do the gentlemanly thing and sleep on the sofa.

Fuck that, I wasn’t here to be a gentleman.

I suddenly wanted her in my arms.

I wanted her next to me while she slept.

I wanted to feel her breath against my chest and the pulse of her heartbeat.

And I didn’t want to analyze why.

I didn’t know if that was what I was going to do yet.

Could I lie next to her and not touch her?

Before tonight, I would have said yes.

Now, after seeing her fire, feeling her response to my punishing hand, and tasting her lips, I doubted any man was that strong.

“The bedroom is down that hallway.” I pointed toward the hall on the left. “As is my office and the bathroom. Kitchen is over there. The dining room is the built-in table there.”


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