Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
I listen to her words silently.
“You know I’m right… don’t you?” she asks.
I give her a slow nod. Again, I don’t know if her words are entirely accurate, but they feel good. They are the only thing that’s made me feel remotely okay this morning, so I accept and embrace them.
“Okay,” I say, my voice softening. “Okay.”
“So, you can stop feeling so bad and just let go. Enjoy yourself.”
“Yeah,” I reply.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
IVAN
It turns out it’s extremely hard to sleep when you have a raging hard-on that won’t go away because you can’t stop thinking about a woman. Which is crazy because the sky is literally falling on top of me. The fires cannot be put out and they are spreading so fast that soon they will burn to ashes everything I worked so hard and so long for, but all I can fixate on is how good it felt to be deep inside her.
I have an important breakfast meeting at the Four Seasons that I’m already running late for, but what I’m itching to do is turn back and go fuck her. I’m fucking obsessed with the smell and feel of her and it’s driving me absolutely insane.
My phone starts vibrating. Likely a reminder of more fires I won’t be able to put out today. With a sigh, I pull my phone out of my jacket pocket, but it is Lara. Instantly, my cock gets hard and my body throbs for her. I want her so badly I can barely contain myself. Out of frustration, I grab my rock-hard cock through my pants and squeeze, seeking some relief.
“Hello,” she says with annoying nonchalance.
Irritated, I resort to sounding as gruff as I possibly can. “What is it?” I bark.
I can picture her reaction. Her brows scrunching up, her lips drawing into a stern line. She looks fierce when she gets like that, but that only makes her even more sexy and fuckable. A ridiculous phenomenon that has no logical explanation.
“I’m calling to ask about the contract,” she says stiffly.
“What about it?”
“You said the new one would be revised this morning...”
“My secretary will be over with it later this morning. Anything else?” I ask, my words clipped and sharp, sending the clear message that I am irritated by her call, which isn’t the case at all. I’m irritated by how unaffected she is.
“There will be no further—” she clears her throat, and I can hear the discomfort. “There will be no further… interactions between us until it’s been issued.”
I can’t hold back my mocking laughter. If we were having this conversation face to face, I’d take her right there without the contract, just to prove how susceptible she is to me. It would completely humiliate her and make her even fiercer.
“Isn’t it a bit late to be making such a stipulation?”
The line goes dead on me. I stare at the phone in disbelief. She hung up. I don’t like it one bit, but I guess I can’t really complain since I was taunting her.
I place a call to Greta. “Are you in the office yet?”
She responds in her usual perky manner. “Good morning, Sir. I got in about half an hour ago.”
“I’m sending an amendment to Lara’s contract. Once you’ve updated it please send a copy to the house for her to sign it.”
“Got it,” she replies crisply.
"This is an urgent matter, so it should be resolved before I return from the Four Seasons.”
“Of course.”
I end the call and just send off the email with the amendment to her when I see I have another call. My mother.
“Mama,” I greet.
“I’ve sent multiple messages. Why haven’t you responded?”
“I’ve been busy.” She can’t really complain further or contest this.
“The committee never received your RSVP. You are coming to the gala tomorrow night, aren’t you?”
I frown. It’s in my calendar, but I was hoping to avoid it.
“Ivan, are you listening?” my mother demands crossly. “I need a response.”
“I told you I’d try my best.”
“Ivan, you promised,” she complains. “I really want to see you. A lot of people want to see you. You’re never at these events.”
“For good reasons, Mother. Anyway, I only promised I’d be at your birthday getaway in France this weekend, not the gala.”
“No, you also agreed to the gala as well,” she lies blatantly.
I sigh deeply. “Can’t I just write a check?”
“No, I don’t want your money. I want your presence. The whole family will be there.”
“Even my father?” I murmur.
“Not him,” she says with cold fury. “He’s probably at some sunspot with his latest slut.” She takes a deep breath. “I actually just called to confirm your attendance, not to go back and forth about the guest list. Please don’t disappoint me this time.”
Without giving me a chance to respond, she ends the call.
I put my phone back into my pocket and stare reflectively out of the window. There is so much bitterness in my family. We can’t even be in the same room anymore.