Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“I look forward to meeting you again,” I tell her while giving a tiny wave goodbye. Drew is quiet as he leads me back to the party the same way we came. Before we enter the foyer, I give his hand a tight squeeze.
“Thank you for that. For taking me to meet your mother.”
He swallows thickly. “I can’t wait till the day she’s better, and you can both sit down and talk together. She’s going to love you. I just know it.”
Reality smacks me in the face then. Drew talks as if we’re together now, as if everything is better, but it’s not yet. Can it be? Can this all be fixed? Yes, but it’s not an overnight thing. It’s going to take time and patience. Still, I doubt I’d be able to walk away again. We remain together, me at his side, as we cut to the bar. The bartender asks for our orders, and Drew gets me a soda while ordering a whiskey for himself.
“I’ve been drinking wine almost all night,” I gripe when the bartender hands me the Pepsi.
“You aren’t of age,” he taunts and sips his whiskey with a smirk.
His playfulness is surprising, given his father’s appearance and the ordeal we had at the last event. At the end of the bar is a commotion, and I hear his dad’s vicious voice cutting through the air, a small crowd forming around him.
"She's trash. She came from trash, and she'll go back to it eventually, right? But can you marry trash if it comes with millions? Of course you can."
Drew's hand tightens on my waist, and I swallow hard, realizing he's talking about me. An onslaught of emotions filters through me. Anger. Sadness. Anger again. I want to make him pay for all the pain he’s caused others.
Sebastian’s voice cuts through the men like a whip. "Well, trash may come with millions, but what does it say about you when the trash decides it doesn’t want anything to do with you?”
I catch a glimpse of his face from the corner of my eye. There’s a storm brewing in his eyes, but he appears calm, bored even. I look back at Drew whose features mimic Sebastian’s. Many of the women and some of the men around the room wear that same face, that same expression. Do they learn this from the womb? The ability to lock down their emotions so completely, and if so, how do they do it?
I sip the soda and motion to the bartender, asking for a whiskey for myself. After a while, Drew leads me to speak with a few of the wives, introducing me to them, but I don't hear names or see their faces.
All I can hear is Drew's dad echoing his words from that night.
Trash. Trash. Trash.
Is that all I'll ever be to them? Trash. Trash that might be worth millions now, but nevertheless still trash. As if he can sense my turbulent emotions, Drew cups the back of my neck and leans down.
"You give them too much, Flower. Clear your face. You have to adopt the mask, or they will use that soft heart you carry against you."
Trash. Trash. Trash.
I shake my head and try to get the words to disappear from my brain, but they won’t.
"I don't know if I can."
"You can. You only think you can’t because you aren’t used to it. If you want to support Sebastian and survive in this world, you will learn to master your emotions."
Ugh. Fine. I try to do exactly as he says. I go deep into my brain, focusing on squishing everything that’s annoying me, or threatening me at the moment, but the more I focus on those things, the more they threaten to swallow me.
"Would it help if when I fucked you later, I forced you to maintain that mask the whole time?”
His question makes me laugh. "Could you maintain that look through sex?"
He shrugs. "Maybe with another woman. Never with you."
My heart fucking melts a little bit more for this man. Dammit.
"What is that look? It's not the mask I just told you to adopt."
I shake my head and stare out at the people, keeping my eye on Sebastian as he talks, shakes hands, makes deals or whatever it is he is doing. He's in his element here, people want to talk to him, want to be near him. And why not? He's young, handsome, and he just took over one of the biggest families.
Drew leans down, his lips brushing against my neck. “You look incredible, by the way. I want to rip this dress off with my teeth and fuck you in those heels."
I smile and then hide the smile in my glass of whiskey. "You're not making it easy for me to maintain a neutral face."
"When have I ever made anything easy?"