Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53725 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 215(@250wpm)___ 179(@300wpm)
“Let’s go to dinner and talk, Alana.”
“I’m done here,” I say, and just thinking about how we got to where we are right now primes my anger. His father cornered my mother at a big event and told her he owned her. The way Damion now owns me. “Your father gets a monthly payment from us,” I say. “Thanks to the TV show, I’ll have you paid off in the next two months.” I rotate and intend to walk away. I do, in fact, start walking.
“I’m not my father, Alana.”
I whirl around to face him. “Aren’t you?”
“You know better.”
“I don’t.” I turn and start walking again.
“You owe me, Alana.”
Those words just stop me in my tracks all over again. I understand what I never did with Damion until now. I’m a commodity. I am not the girl next door or a friend.
Just a commodity.
My emotions are everywhere, bouncing off my ribcage and ping ponging all over the place until I become a boiling pot of anger that will do me no good. It might even work against me, but it doesn’t seem to matter. The explosion is going to happen.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Damion
You owe me.
The kiss of death with Alana.
I knew it when I said the words. I also knew I had no choice. Playing on her guilt and sense of responsibility to me, not to my father, was the only way I would stop her from walking out that door. And I had to stop her from walking out the door for reasons she’s not ready to hear. At this point, it’s safe to say may never be ready. She’ll walk away hating me and just as it was ten years ago, it’s for the best. Even necessary.
Alana rotates and faces me. “Did you really just say that to me, Damion?” She closes the space between us, which in my book is progress. “Did you really say that?” she demands again, now standing in front of me. Damn, she’s beautiful. So fucking beautiful, even with pink cheeks and fire in her eyes for all the wrong reasons. I can think of much better reasons than a fight. “I didn’t want to take your money,” she adds. “I left law school to pay back that money. It changed my life.”
“Your father changed your life, Alana, but only because you let him.”
She reaches up to slap me and I catch her wrist. God, I want to fuck her right now. Just lay her down on the couch and spread her wide. “Careful, baby. You can’t come back from that.”
“You can’t hurt me more than you already have.”
She has no idea, but then that’s the whole idea. That she never has any idea about what is really going on. “Never is a long time, Alana.”
“So is ten years of owing you money.”
“You never owed me money. You chose to accept a debt to my father that never existed. What you owe me is a favor. And now I’m calling that favor due.” I walk her into me, close but not touching, not beyond her delicate little wrist in my much bigger hand. I want to ask where her father was while all of this was happening, but I stick to the plan. “You owe me, Alana, and whether you like it or deny it, it’s the truth. You might not be alive right now if not for me.”
She glares at me, specs of amber in her olive-green eyes. “What’s the favor?” she asks through gritted teeth. “And let go of me.”
I’d rather pull her to me and kiss the hell out of her, but I force myself to let her go.
She places a step between us and gives me her back a moment, clearly trying to gain her composure. Alana is not an overreactive person. Her desire and attempt to slap me was ten years coming, and well deserved. She draws a deep breath and turns to face me, acceptance in her expression even as she hugs herself again, a subconscious act of self-protection. “Tell me,” she says. “What is this favor you want from me?
“I have a merger I’m working on. The older, incredibly intelligent woman I have to win over to make it happen, not only prefers to do business with family men, she loves your show. Turns out, you sold her a property a few years ago.”
“Who?” she asks.
“Mary Morrison,” I say, watching for a reaction.
“How do you even know I know Mary?”
“She literally had your show on in her office when I met with her. She loves you. I told her we have known each other all our lives.”
“Mary is a wonderful woman and easy to please. You don’t need me to win her over.”
“She hates my father, and rightfully so. He wants to force her out and do a hostile takeover. She’s afraid the apple doesn’t fall from the tree, but I’m on her side. What my father doesn’t know is that board has agreed that if I bring this merger to successful completion, they’ve agreed to unseat him, and I’ll take over.”