Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 54004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
I pry her left finger up, just an inch, just far enough to spin the ring around and see the diamond. My mother’s ring, until my father bought her a newer, bigger, gaudier one. Sometime after I earned my first billion and bailed them both out of debt.
Everyone thinks my family is old money rich. We used to be. But through a series of thieving relatives, gambling addictions and even worse alcoholism that my grandparents enjoyed, by the time my parents went on their own spending sprees, there was nothing left for my sister and me. Not even enough to pay for our college educations. So I put myself through school, hell bent on earning enough in whatever career I chose in order to pay for my sister’s college next.
I managed that and then some. I even got enough to help my parents out, though they’ve never thanked me for it.
Their only response has been to pressure me, constantly. Asking about when I’ll get engaged, when I’m bringing the lucky lady home, when I’ll have a baby to carry on their lineage. Their lineage, never mine.
I suppress a smile. My mother would have a heart attack if she knew how this ring got onto this sexy little kitten’s finger this weekend.
Then again, my mother would be revived from joy if she realized that I intend to stick this out. I intend to make this marriage work, if I can. Not for my family, or even to spite them by running off with a girl in Vegas of all places. But because of the way Mara tilts her chin to look at me now, her eyes alight with defiance, even in the face of all the upper hands I have now.
“You’re still wearing it,” I tell her, softly.
“I couldn’t get it off,” she replies coolly, gaze narrowed. “Trust me, it doesn’t mean anything except that I opted not to find some bolt cutters this morning.”
I chuckle, more at the mental image of my mother screaming, watching her ring snapped off by bolt cutters. “Well, it’s your ring now,” I tell her, not about to explain the complicated history behind it.
Besides, something tells me Mara won’t cut it off. Not yet. She’s stubborn in the same way that I am. And as much as she hates to admit it, she’s realizing now how much we truly have in common.
“So you don’t care if I keep this and pawn it?” She arches an eyebrow, considering the diamond anew. “It looks pretty expensive.”
“It was,” I reply simply. “So does this mean you still want the divorce?”
She snorts, as if I’m joking. When I don’t join in, she levels me with another suspicious stare. “Of course. Why wouldn’t I?”
“Well.” I tilt my head and gesture at the room around us, freshly emptied of employees, but still reeking of power, privilege. And this is the smallest office we have in the building, or any of our buildings. “As you’ve probably realized by now, I am massively wealthy.”
“I don’t care about that.” She rolls her eyes.
I furrow my brow. “Most people do. Think about it. With this kind of wealth, you’d never need to work a day in your life.”
At that, her hackles rise. She shoves out of her chair, even though standing she still barely comes up to chest height on me. Still, there’s something sexy about the way she’s trying to take charge, against me of all people. She holds up a finger. “One, I’ve wanted to work in this industry since childhood, and I have no plans to quit on the first damn day of it. No amount of money would make me just give up on my dreams because they’re not about money.” She pauses to swallow, her jaw still set, her gaze hard on mine. “And two.” She lifts a second finger. Now her fingertips tremble, ever so slightly, but just enough to give away the emotion she’s trying hard to contain. “I would never take advantage of someone like that. No matter who they were, or how much they irritated me,” she adds, probably to disguise the hint of fury sparking in the corners of her eyes.
I take a step closer, unable to tear my gaze from her. I reach up to catch her hand and fold her fingers down, sliding mine between them, until I’m clasping her hand against my chest. She stares at it, then up at me, a crease between her eyebrows that practically begs me to lean in and kiss it until it disappears.
She can’t know what she just said. She’s proven time and again that she doesn’t know a damn thing about me. But still, if she planned to seduce me, to steal more than just my cock—which is definitely already hers, to judge by the near-painful stiffness in my pants—but my heart too… Then she couldn’t have come up with a better speech if she tried.