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“Hello? Because it’s fun. Liars are usually the best fuck because you never know what you’re in for.”

I tighten my fist on the desk to resist agreeing to how true those words are. I hate not knowing what I’m in for. Unlike Dan, I never seek out the thrill. In fact, I prefer it not be part of the equation.

I prefer having everything under my control. I’ve lost enough of it to the shadows in the past and allowing it to happen again is equal to blowing up everything to pieces.

“Why would you think it’s fun when they’re using you?”

“You’re using them, too.” He swings his palm in the air, imitating tapping an arse. “And then it’s, “thank you, have a nice life, love. ””

“That still doesn’t give anyone the right to use me.”

He raises his brows, studying me, and even pauses eating his donut, which is the equivalent to an event itself. “Since when did you grow morality balls?”

“It’s not morality. It’s the insult of being taken for a fool.”

“Oh, fuck me, this is good.” He jumps down from my desk. “Who took you for a fool? I need to buy them a drink. Wait a second, is it someone you fucked without me? I need a redo, one I can participate in.”

“No.” The word is so firm and final, it surprises me.

I’ve never said no to sharing before and he knows this, because he’s tilting his head with an annoying smirk that creases his cheeks with dimples.

Women love that shit. He’s the one they’re initially attracted to, due to his wittiness, charm, and conversation skills. I’m usually only along for the ride. It’s not that they’re not attracted to me, it’s that they feel like they should keep their distance from me.

Which is the smart thing to do.

Anastasia was the smartest of the bunch, because she fled the scene while I was sleeping. From the very beginning, she never envisioned anything beyond good old fucking.

And while I might have let that slide under different circumstances, the fact that she’s a pathological liar doesn’t play in her favor.

She lied not only about the virginity bit, but also about her name and her age. Because I sure as shit got her file from HR after I ran into her in the lift. And fucking surprise, she’s only twenty, not twenty-three as she told me that night.

Then there’s her weird new appearance. When the lift doors opened, I almost ignored the person inside, almost didn’t even look at her, since I was busy checking the group chat with mine and Dan’s friends in England.

It was a brief second, barely a lift of my head, but it was enough for me to see her.

And it didn’t take me long to recognize her. The blue-eyed, icy-haired girl from Jersey.

Though now, she’s nothing like that soft-looking blonde with deep blue eyes. She has black hair that’s tied in a twist and wears thick fucking glasses to hide her eyes that have magically turned brown.

Any other person would’ve been fooled by her appearance, especially with the baggy clothes and the general nerdy aura she gives off. But there’s something she couldn’t do with her makeover.

She had a habit of touching her chest now and again during that night, as if she was trying to reach for something beneath her flesh and bones. The moment I looked at her, she did that again—brought her hand to her chest and froze.

Those same soft hands with short, elegant bare nails that she couldn’t have changed.

If I hadn’t thought something was fishy due to the whole new look and the lies, I confirmed it when she ran from the lift as if her life depended on it.

And now, I won’t stop until I see the end of it.

Of her and her lies and deceit.

“Am I imagining things or did you just say no to sharing?” Dan licks the chocolate off his fingers slowly, like a cat who just finished eating and is in the mood to play.

“You’re not imagining it.”

“Why?”

The reasons are blurred in my mind and I couldn’t find an explanation even if I tried. One thing’s for sure, though. Neither Daniel nor anyone else will put their hands on Anastasia until I deal with this on my own.

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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