L
ime. Because I must have m
oor click shut behind me, sealing us in
en hundred miles away from Manhattan, where sh
ow she flew into
flagship Velvet Tears in New Yor
le I was waiting for Olivia out front-and stood hidden behind the v
chi
n't turn
ng two-way mirror, a crystal champagne flut
low sip of vintage Krug, "the litt
side her at the glass, staring do
blonde stripper I put on Ben's tab
are ass to leave bruises, his head thrown back
flatly. "Unless she's brain-dead, she'll pack her shit and block his number b
what rational h
they take the hit,
leave him."
urns her back
h, backless black silk gown
rom her sharp cheekbones, her blood-red
f a bear trap and she knows ex
e. A five-second peep show through a mirror isn't going to break two years of brainwashing. She can barely see his face clearly from up here. And gues
a fool who d
e tilts her chin up, her dark, calc
u to sleep
her for three
what
to sleep wit
of her fu
xy. Sanity was never p
orless sound that scrapes stra
out of y
dead s
sure as hell don't fuck Ben's side p
o the low glass table where th
ead, you let him fly out to Chicago every week to play house while you sit in
th Apex expires in three months, and he's been playing the devoted boyfriend so she'll sign her b
r ribs, her red stiletto nails diggi
ses. "There's something else
off on the librarian-on-the-street, freak-in-the-sheets routine. And from what I just felt underneath that hideo
ntouched
ree
hovers an inch abov
and look at Roxy, wai
ce is
t," I sa
cloned six months ago. I've read
ood floor, stepping right b
s a virgi
decanter down with a heavy thud. "What is sh
s day
anatic, a pathological lia
y syllable. "And Ben gets off on it. He loves the power trip of having this pure, untainte
oxy. Especially not women who write five-h
y why you're goi
est, her sharp fingernails dragging lightly over the black cot
lush against me, pressing the s
the in her heady, narcotic perfume and the
n cue-there
nimal instinct. Blood rus
hits me fa
flex that I fucking despise
ess. It isn't ev
k, mutually destructive war s
and she knows the exact chemic
way from him, Kla
umb traces my pulse-the exact same spot on my
ttle virgin anymore, the illusion shatter
o her dark, man
n my jet, fly back to my own city, and let Roxy and
I say
ound her slender wrist, and pee
r your pathetic little
its. Rejection has always
gle step back,
manov D
y stops beating f
jaw locks so tight
d you ju
ss her painted mouth. "The one sitting inside my father's biometric vault. The one
t just
masterpiece of Russian history. The cr
te collection since the day her bastard father outbid m
ell it to me," I say, my
rthday last month. The second I fly back to New York tomorrow, I can
ng me the Ro
for the li
roaring tide of adrenali
are i
ated," she
ash with vi
belongs to him. Do it-and I'll have a private courier fly the da
ad fuckin
ill slices straight
her hard against the two-way mirror-right over the spot
are throat-not tight enough to cut her air, just an
s parting, her chest he
my thigh hard between her legs
a practiced, theatrical sound d
nn
n ugly winter coat bit her own lip until it b
I are both rot
lden boy continues to ruin his own lif
ntil my nose
the glass. "If I play your game, and you try to welch on this wager... I won't just take the dagger.
nch. She gets of
st my palm, her pupils blown wide a
razing the corner of my jaw
debts, Klaus. G
throat like I'm
pe her perfume out of my lungs, and tu
letting the bass of the cl
didn't ju
t just
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