Cold Hearted Casanova (Cruel Castaways #3) Read Online L.J. Shen

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: Cruel Castaways Series by L.J. Shen
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Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 124971 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 625(@200wpm)___ 500(@250wpm)___ 417(@300wpm)
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“So?” I shoved my legs into my faded Dickies. I tried to ignore the hangover-like headache that was hammering rusty nails into my brain.

“Look at the number of views, you wanker!”

Squinting, I could now see the reason for her rage.

“Six million.” I whistled. “Guess we’re a power couple now.”

“You know what it means?” She collapsed on the edge of the couch and sat closer to me than she normally would, a sure sign her guard was down. “My parents are going to see this!”

“Not necessarily. Boomers don’t do well with technology.”

“This was featured on two morning shows. My phone has blown up with TV people wanting us to give an interview.” She hit refresh. The view count turned to six point two. I patted the side of the couch, retrieved my phone, and frowned at it. There were two missed calls from Emmett. Bingo.

“Just tell them the truth.” I turned to Duffy.

“Mum and Tim are not even my biggest concern.” She shot up to her feet, then returned to her towels and Lysol for another round of scrubbing the counter. “What if BJ sees it?”

“Isn’t he on an electronic ban while in Nepal?” She’d mentioned something about that the other day, while I was knee deep in trying to tune her out.

She licked her lips, nodding. The thought must have encouraged her. “I suppose he is, but when he comes back—”

“When he comes back, he’ll be too busy begging for forgiveness to give a crap. It’s not like we shared a passionate kiss. I’ve gotten more action from my aunt during Thanksgiving dinner.”

“Ew, perv.”

“Just kidding. I don’t have a family.”

“Wait, what?” She paused, looking at me with her big purple eyes. “Are you serious?”

Yes.

“Point is, there’s nothing overtly incriminating in the video.”

“Ugh.” She poured bleach into the sink. The scent hit my nostrils, making me want to throw up. My headache was out of control this morning.

I got the idea to go viral when I saw how Duffy’s video with Gretchen had made waves on the internet. I thought it was a nice way to redeem her pride, and—let’s admit it—the quickest, most efficient way to show Emmett that I had a fiancée. Only I hadn’t taken into consideration how bad she was going to take it.

Because you’ve never considered anyone else in your entire life.

Also, because I wasn’t privy to her past scars. To being ridiculed by other students. Getting the wrong type of attention.

“Hey. Good luck with the interviews,” I told her retreating back.

She drifted out of the room, taking her Duffy scent and Duffy wit and Duffy everything with her.

Four Tylenols and a chain of curses later, I made a call to Christian. The man had a bevy of people at his disposal who knew how to get shit done. He’d hooked me up with a colleague of his, who assured me that for a suitable amount of money, I could get the video taken down from YouTube. Once he’d found the owner of the account, he was able to send them an offer they couldn’t refuse. And they didn’t.

The video was removed from the site an hour and a half after it was loaded. I had no intention of telling Duffy I was the reason her ass—and imaginary relationship with Cocksucker—had been saved. It would cost a normal person an arm and a leg to do what I’d done.

She sent me a text not even two minutes after the video was taken down.

Unknown: They took the video down.

Me: Who is this?

If I couldn’t fuck her, I could at least fuck with her.

Unknown: Duffy. Who else do you have a video with?

Me: See, this is why I asked you if you ever watched porn. I’m kind of a big deal.

Unknown: Hilarious. Program me into your device.

Me: Done.

Duffy: So? How do you think it happened?

Me: I clicked on your number, then info, then create new contact. I thought you youngsters knew all those things.

Duffy: I meant the video.

Me: IDK. Maybe the person realized it was an intimate moment.

Duffy: Or maybe it went against YouTube’s policy or something.

Or maybe I paid the YouTuber an entire annual salary to do it.

Duffy: Job hunting is going rubbish in case you were wondering.

Me: How come?

Duffy: I’m either overqualified or too nuclear after my viral showdown with Gretchen.

Me: You’ll figure it out.

I put my phone down and tended to the very important task of taking a shower and masturbating to a mental image of my fiancée. When I came back to the phone, there was a message waiting from Duffy.

Duffy: Would you like me to lick something when I get back today?

Me: Don’t play with my tender feelings. You were the one who said no hooking up.

Duffy: *pick.

Duffy: I meant food, you uncultured swine.

Me: More of your rainforest greens? Nah, I’m good.

Duffy: We could always eat something else.


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