Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 75516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75516 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 378(@200wpm)___ 302(@250wpm)___ 252(@300wpm)
She was right to look at me skeptically. Still, I’d already concluded that this narcissistic bitch was so far up her own ass she’d fall for anything at this point because she was operating under the notion that she was smarter than everyone else. “What kind of deal?”
“Nothing much, I just want some information.”
She walked across the room and dropped down in an armchair, looking pleased with herself. She really believes that I’d sell my wife and son down the river to keep my name from being associated with her crime. What an entitled bitch.
“What is it that you want to know?” She actually had the nerve to smile like the cat that ate the canary.
I found it hard to understand just what Giselle feared about this insipid creature, but I imagine if you’d learned that fear as a child, it would be hard to shake as an adult. “How did you get my wife to leave me? What hold do you have over her that makes her afraid to face you?”
“Why do you want to know that?”
“Let’s just say it’s for my peace of mind.” I sat back as if her answer wasn’t that important to me, as if I could take it or leave it. But the truth is, I needed to know. If I’m going to help Giselle in any way, I must know what this monster did to instill such fear in her since childhood.
“Your wife…has always been a timid little shit stain. Things could’ve been different. I could’ve raised her to be like me, strong, courageous, a fighter. And I would’ve had my husband not transferred all his love and affection for me to the child even before she was born.”
Her face changed, and for a few minutes, it was as if I weren’t even there, which worked perfectly for me because it kept her talking while I listened. “Before I fell pregnant, I was the most important thing in his life; the only thing that mattered. I meant more to him than those stupid buildings and that firm he built from the ground up, his pride and joy.”
“But as soon as I became pregnant, he seemed to just change overnight. He was so excited about the baby, and I was too. Until we learned that I was having a little girl, then he became obsessed. Everything was about her. I had to listen to him go on and on about his precious daughter day in and day out as if I no longer mattered.”
“Everything became about her, and no one else had any say in anything. I even had to switch doctors to one he chose because he was the best, never mind that I had found one that came highly recommended. He had to build her a new nursery, twice as big as the original. He was loving and attentive sure, but I knew it was all for her.” She’s fucking nuts but whatever.
“After she was born, it only got worst. I barely saw the child, not that I wanted to. I hated her with a passion by the time I pushed her out of me, but Sterling didn’t care; he didn’t seem to notice. He did all the feeding and changing since I refused to have that thing near me, and I damn sure wasn’t about to nurse her no matter how much Sterling begged. How common.”
She sneered as if breastfeeding was somehow dirty and beneath her. I could see nothing of my wife in this wretched woman, thank fuck. I was beginning to feel dirty, just being in the same room as her, and could only imagine how difficult it must’ve been for my delicate Giselle to endure the same. No wonder she pulled a runner to get away from this beast.
She seemed to realize she had a captive audience in me, and that loose screw in her head didn’t allow her to see or register the disgust I felt at her diatribe. “And?” I waved my hand around when she stopped as if asking for approval or some shit.
“And what? What is it that you want to know?” She screamed, as her eyes looked something approaching feral. Why the hell am I surrounded by crazy-ass people?
I didn’t want my inner thoughts to show on my face, didn’t want anything to stem the flow of words coming from her mouth until I got what I wanted, so I took a deep breath and gave her some semblance of a smile. “You still haven’t told me what I asked to know. Why is she so afraid of you?”
She seemed to find pleasure in the fact that her daughter was afraid of her, something I picked up on and had no problem using to my advantage. I’ve already come to the conclusion that Ann Winthrop isn’t all there and probably never was. The things Gordon described the day before without confirmation could be brushed off.