Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22067 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 110(@200wpm)___ 88(@250wpm)___ 74(@300wpm)
Shayla turns red even as she quickly closes her mouth.
"You never ask me to join you for lunch," I murmur.
"How did you know I was here?"
"I've always known."
Her mouth opens and closes.
Good.
It would greatly disappoint me if she were to insist on wasting our time with pointless arguments.
Because Shayla and I?
We've come up with a system of communication over the years. When there's something I want my secretary to know is the absolute truth, I simply look into her eyes, the way I'm looking into her eyes now—
And she gets it. Even if she doesn't want to. She can't deny that she gets it.
"Pretending nothing happened between us won't work."
Just like she can't deny this next truth that I need her to accept.
"Because something did."
She swallows hard.
But something is still holding her back.
And so I decide to keep pushing.
"I can't stop thinking about that night, Shayla. And the dark circles under your eyes tell me it's been the same for you—"
She opens her mouth, clearly intending to deny this, but when she sees the way I'm looking at her, challenging her to win an argument without playing dumb—
"I need space, okay?"
Good girl.
It's not the answer I hoped for, but at least we're getting somewhere.
"How long?"
"I don't know."
And when she looks at me—
It's the same way she's always looked at me...when she wants to know she's saying the absolute truth.
IT'S ANOTHER DAY AT the office.
Another day where frustration gnaws at me.
But this time, I've decided to try another approach.
Because she's not the only one who can play this game she's playing.
A mutinous expression flashes over my secretary's face when I tell her about today's charity auction, and why I need her there.
"If you insist, sir."
"Yes, I do insist."
Shayla glares at me when she realizes her attempt to piss me off fails.
Good.
Let the games begin.
Milos drives her to the museum, and I finish up with work before heading over myself. I find my secretary right away, and my jaw clenches.
You messed up, Kontides.
I should've told her not to change. Should've remembered the last time she showed up at a party with her hair down, both literally and figuratively. But now it's too late. She's in another one of those strapless little things that she loves, and I'm obsessed with getting rid of.
Unfortunately, it's also one of those strapless little things that anyone taller than her can find joy, and the prosecutor she's talking to clearly isn't any exception. To be fair, all I've heard are good things about him. But I don't give a damn.
Even from here, it's clear to see that Prosecutor Schitt is infatuated with my Shayla.
So yeah.
I hate him, of course.
But someone blocks my path before I can even take a step towards them.
"Adriano!"
Therese air-kisses my cheeks, and I let her. We've known each other our whole lives and even attended the same law school. She's also the reason I wanted Shayla to come.
"It's been a while, right?" But the moment she places a hand over my arm, I suddenly start to wonder if I've made a mistake. My plan here is to make Shayla jealous. Enough to make her realize that she'd rather stake a claim on me before anyone else does.
But when Therese moves close enough to have her breasts brush against the side of my arm—
What the hell's wrong with me?
This is nothing new, so why the hell is my skin suddenly crawling at having another woman this close to me? Why do I suddenly feel so hollow, knowing that Therese wouldn't have done this if she didn't think I was willing to consider what's being offered?
Men aren't the only ones who exchanged favors for sex. Women like Therese have no problem doing the same thing, and while it's something I've never cared to get involved in—
I realize now that I'm still playing their game. Because when Therese smiles up at me, my own lips curve in a smile, and I can't remember hating myself more than I did at that moment. Whenever women like Therese come on to me, I simply let them think what they want without actually taking the bait. It's strategic, and that's how I've always thought of it. You never know whose favor you'll someday need, so I've always played it safe. It's never been my style to pick unnecessary fights.
But when I turn to Shayla, just to make sure she's still within my line of sight, and my gaze unexpectedly collides with hers—
No.
Pain flashes over her features as she sees Therese holding my arm like I'm already hers, and I suddenly find myself wondering how far I'm willing to be strategic—
"The Olivarez case," Therese says. "I think I've come across something that you could find helpful. Should we talk about it in private?"
—if it means hurting the woman I...want.
I look back at Therese, and she holds my gaze without hesitation, letting me know without words that her offer comes with certain expectations.