Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76478 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
We pause once we’re outside the mansion, my red bottom shoes clicking against the marble patio. Ignoring the figures I see from the corner of my eye, I turn toward Max. “You look good. Really nice.” My eyes drift up and down his body. Someone call the fucking Oscars.
Tapping my foot, I divert my eyes to the front of myself as we wait for our car. Why does this fountain look old as fuck? The house itself isn’t old, yet this massive statue quite clearly carved from ancient stone looks like it has been shoved into a time machine and fast-forwarded to this century. I can feel Bryant’s eyes on me before I’ve even seen him, burning through the side of my head. When the waiting becomes too unbearable, I turn to Bryant.
“This fountain is ugly. Who chose it? I sure as fuck know I didn’t.”
“I’m hurt, baby. Tell me what you really think…” He ignores me, tapping on his phone.
“What the fuck is taking them so long…” I mumble under my breath, inching closer to Max.
Stacey, who’s tucked underneath Bryant’s arm, (and doing everything in her power not to look directly at me), answers, “There’s only one Jerry.”
“Yeah.” My eyes snap to Bryant. “And he’s mine, so Bryant will have to drive you both.” As if on cue, a black Bentley slides up in front of us and Max opens the door for me, gesturing for me to slide in.
“Hey, Jer,” I mutter, gathering the silk from my train up and placing it in a pool at my feet once I’m secured in my seat.
“Hey, trouble.”
Max slips into the seat beside me. I’ve been going back and forth with Max and my judgments when it comes to this situation. I’ve trusted the wrong people all of my life and it has damaged a part of myself that I will never repair. Can I trust Max? Trust. That word is supposed to be one of promise, a display of loyalty and love. It’s nothing but another lie to me.
“Max?” I watch the trees pass by as we drive down the long driveway. “Can I trust you?” I turn farther to face him, searching his eyes. Give me anything.
He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. I finally notice it. Or maybe I’m thinking too much into everything because Bryant has told me that he’s working for my father.
“You can.” The words are clipped enough to come off as honest.
“Can I?” I snap, narrowing my eyes on him. The passing streetlights illuminate his sharp features and scruffy beard.
Max tilts his head, seeming to study me closely. He’s obviously picking up on my sudden hostility. I don’t know why Bryant put me onto this, he of all people should know that I can’t be fake to save my life.
Literally.
Anyone else remember the pig farm incident?
I cross my ankles together. “Never mind.”
His hand comes to mine, but instead of relaxing beneath his touch, I tense. “Hey, talk to me, Isa. What’s he been whispering in your ear?”
I don’t say anything. I shouldn’t say anything.
“What?” he jokes, a small smile tugging on his mouth. “You don’t think that now that you have your two broody bodyguards standing by your side that I haven’t noticed your sudden displeasure with being around me?”
Damn. He’s a good liar.
I hate it.
The only thing worse than a liar is someone who believes their own tales. There’s no redemption for them. They spin their web of lies, but instead of untangling them and becoming remorseful, they move in and make it their home.
“It’s not about them…” I whisper, and it’s the truth. We pull up to the curb of the hotel, where a red carpet spews out from our car to the front entrance doors. “It’s about what’s right.” Max’s and my conversation is no longer my first priority, as the face of my enemy hangs over the front of the hotel.
My father’s exclusive ball. He holds the same one every year. I’ve always thought it was just one big pissing contest for my dad and his friends to flash around their money, and the older I got, the more I realized how right I was.
Max shuffles out of the car and turns back to face me, holding out his hand.
I pause, clutching the silk of my gown in one hand while the other squeezes the back headrest of the driver’s seat.
“Come on, Isa. We can talk later.”
I don’t particularly want to take the hand of an enemy, an enemy that I still, underneath all of the confused feelings, feel something for. What? I don’t know.
Cameras are flashing from behind him and my heart panics.
“Get her out of here!” Bryant roared from the other side of the alter, his teeth bared. I hadn’t ever seen Bryant flash such pain as he did that day. He bled out his humanity and let it spill over the floor.