Cold Hearted Casanova (Cruel Castaways #3) Read Online L.J. Shen

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: Cruel Castaways Series by L.J. Shen
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
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“Well . . .” I could hear Laura munching on a crispy apple on the other line. “I’m not his secretary, so I can’t tell for sure, but you said it’s been two and a half hours, right?”

I flicked my wrist, glancing at my watch. The same watch I’d told myself over and over again I should remove because it was a present from BJ, but never quite got to doing so. No wonder Riggs thought I still had feelings for that wanker.

“Three hours now,” I corrected.

There was a thump on the door, followed by the sound of the key swirling in its hole.

“Oh. He’s here. Wish me luck.”

“You don’t need luck, you just need to remember you’re worthy,” she chirped. “Loving, caring, smart, ambitious. He’d be lucky to have you.” She paused. “And if that doesn’t work, then at least remember you’re super fit, and he cannot help himself around you.”

I tossed my phone onto the couch and tucked stray flyaways behind my ear as I rushed to the door. I opened it. “Riggs, I—”

But I didn’t get to finish this sentence.

Because it wasn’t my husband standing in front of me.

It was BJ.

“Babe.”

BJ’s voice broke, and apparently so did he. He sank down to his knees melodramatically at my doorstep, his face marred with anguish. He had a deep tan, overgrown hair, and a new beer belly. That pet name—babe—I’d never thought of it before, but now that I did, I loathed it. How lazy. How impersonal. I loved Poppins so much more.

He was kneeling in front of me, and strangely—infuriatingly—the only thing I felt was disappointment and annoyance it wasn’t Riggs at the door.

All I needed was one look at this man to know that I could never marry him, never forgive him, and never imagine my future with him, no matter how many zeros were in his bank account. I’d outgrown him completely, perhaps because I’d also outgrown the version of myself that had found his swanky flat, designer clothes, and filthy rich parents attractive. Without these props, he was sadly lacking in all the places that mattered.

And, while I was being completely honest with myself, he was a mouth breather. And that trilby? Pure ridiculousness.

“What are you doing here?” I reared my head back, looking at him like he was a piss stain I had to rub off the carpet. I wanted Riggs. Wanted to talk to him. Wanted to stroke his pretty head and tell him everything was going to be all right. To help him sort through the complicated emotions of finding his biological father and, yes, of losing him soon too.

“I cut the trip short.” BJ choked on his words, still on his knees, which frankly made me feel like I was talking to a toddler bargaining for a treat. “God, Duffy, I just couldn’t concentrate on anything after how we left things off.”

“That’s an interesting narrative to what happened between us.” I looked around, distracted and disinterested. “Oh, BJ, do stand up. This is so melodramatic and improper.”

As he stood up and shuffled inside, it occurred to me that nothing was ever improper or indecent when Riggs did it. In fact, when Riggs strolled around completely naked in this place, even bending down to pick up a piece of cereal he’d dropped, I found it sexy, funny, enchanting, and bold.

BJ approached me with puckered lips, expecting a kiss. I turned around and gave him my cheek, revulsion bubbling inside my stomach.

“I’ve missed you.” His lips skimmed my ear.

I stepped back. “Please, take a seat.”

He plopped on the settee, and I took the recliner, happy to put distance between us. Honestly, I’d have loved to skip this entire conversation altogether, but I suppose we both needed closure. Plus, even though I despised BJ these days, we’d still shared quite a few years together.

“I got you a ton of gifts—had a layover in Singapore, and they had awesome designer stores at the airport—but they’re in my suitcase downstairs.” His face scrunched. “I came straight here from the airport. Didn’t even make a pit stop to my apartment for a shower, and trust me, the business class in Jet Giant Airlines stinks.”

If this was supposed to make me swoon, he’d failed spectacularly.

“Not impressed?” He gave me a fake, humble smile. “Yeah, okay, fair enough. I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.”

Still, I said nothing. BJ’s face was becoming red under his new tan. He looked genuinely stressed, and I couldn’t help but marvel at the irony. A month ago, I’d have killed to get this reaction from him.

“Tough audience.” He gulped, rubbing his palms over his ridiculous Bermuda pants. “So, here’s the thing. Six months ago, a friend of mine from prep school, Kane, saw me at a bar downtown. He told me he got engaged to his girlfriend and that he was going on a six-month, last-hurrah-type vacay in Thailand. You know, just rent a place on the beach on an island, eat well, drink well, do water sports . . .”


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