Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 65031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65031 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 325(@200wpm)___ 260(@250wpm)___ 217(@300wpm)
One hundred thousand.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Time passes too quickly. I’m inside her, already having tallied up half a million dollars. I fuck her rough and painfully, shoving her face against the mattress so I don’t have to look at her. Because if I see her face, I’ll back off. I’ll rethink everything. I’ll fucking pull her into my arms and hold onto something I shouldn’t.
Her sobs only fuel me.
“Too much, Cinderelliott?”
“Never with you.”
I wrap my hand around her throat, squeezing, as I remind her I’m the most powerful man in the city, and she’s nothing but an employee. Worthless and insignificant.
It’s all a fucking game, though.
My dick thinks she’s the best damn thing it’s ever encountered.
My heart aches for some goddamn reason.
My mind won’t shut the fuck up, tossing out a million different ways she could fit into the complicated Constantine world.
The insults don’t come, and my thrusting slows. I crave to flip her back over so I can stare into her intense hazel eyes. To worship her body for hours and hours. Spend a whole night fixated on her plump lips alone. Instead, I bite at her shoulder and call her a plaything to be used and discarded as I come into her tight, needy body.
Silence fills the air. All that can be heard is her bird singing in the living room and our heavy pants. My dick continues to throb though I’ve drained my release into her. I’m not sure if she climaxed or not. The pounding in my heart is so loud and painful it feels as though it’s trying to beat its way out of my chest. The cacophony of thoughts storming around in my head is giving me a goddamn headache.
I’ve spent right at eight hundred grand for this filthy fuck.
Expensive, but worth it.
“How much?” she murmurs.
“Seven ninety.”
“No.” She tries to turn her head to look at me but can’t. “How much for you to spend the night with me? I need—”
Sliding out of her body, I clamber off the bed, unable to look at her as she rolls onto her back. “A million.”
“Win,” she whines, sniffling as she reaches for me. “Take seven ninety.”
“You may be the bargain around here,” I bite out in a cruel tone, “but I’m still a fucking Constantine. No discounts for the poor.”
Fresh tears form in her eyes, and her bottom lip wobbles. “You’re an asshole.”
I laugh, but it’s hollow and hateful. “Tell me something we don’t already know. Goodnight, Ash. See yourself out. Use the ‘whore’ apartment until you find one on your own.”
Her sobs echo behind me, chasing me like fucking ghosts. I stalk out of her room and up the stairs, eager to wash away the evidence of my evil. That’s what I am. Evil fucking monster. Ash Elliott needs to run far, far away from the likes of me. What Mother can’t accomplish in destroying her, I will. Whereas my mother will shred her life, I’ll be the one to cut down Ash piece by piece and set her world ablaze until she’s nothing but . . . ash.
The cold shower I find myself in seems like a fitting punishment. It strikes me relentlessly with icy pinpricks, reminding me that I deserve to feel the pain of it. Maybe my heart can’t ever feel as it once did, but I still deserve to suffer as far as Ash is concerned. I still crave to ache for what I’ve done to her—what I will do to her. Right now, she’s crying for a man who can never love her. Praying to god that I’ll somehow change for her. Find a way to love and adore and keep her.
I can’t.
But my stupid mind replays the heartbroken look on her face when I left her on the bed, naked and dripping with my come. All she wanted was a night in my arms. To feel safe and cared for. Loved.
Shutting off the shower, I snag a towel off the rack. Prissy warm towels my ass. I huff as I dry myself off, my mind unable to stop from going a hundred miles a second. I brush my teeth and comb out my hair, refusing to look at my reflection.
Sometimes I don’t want to see the villain staring back at me.
Sometimes I wish, for once, I was the prince.
My eyes, on their own accord, lift to the mirror. Darkness and emptiness stare back at me. No princes here. Just a filthy, fucked-up king who broke the only good thing in his world.
I throw on some sweats, trying like hell to ignore the whimpering downstairs. My heart thunders inside my chest as I pace my bedroom. With a frustrated sigh, I stalk into my massive closet. All my suit jackets and slacks hang in perfect order aside from one. I walk over to it and straighten it, then I access my wall safe. After putting in the code, I bypass the stacks of money, heading right for the dumb coupon book. Flipping it open, I find the coupon I need and tear it out.