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The fact that she even knows about Aspen makes me clench my teeth. She, of all people, needs to keep her destructive energy far away from her.
Still, I don’t take the bait and, instead, stare at her, solemn-faced.
She merely smiles, her red lips appearing grotesque. “You promised to take everything of mine, and I promise to do the same, Kingsley. Especially now that you have more to lose than your billionaire status and that spawn you call a daughter.”
With one last revolting touch, she leaves, her steps brisk and measured. And I wish she’d fall on her face and die the most horrible death.
Or maybe I should do it myself, after all, because old dogs like her don’t die as easily.
My mood takes a sharp dive to the worst for the rest of the day. Everyone knows to stay the fuck away from me whenever I’m back from a hearing with Susan.
Everyone except Aspen, the main reason behind my sour mood.
I can battle with Susan to infinity and beyond. The reason I’m not finishing her off isn’t because I can’t but because I need her to suffer and take on more plastic surgeries to fill the hole inside her black soul.
I need her to be on her toes until the day she dies, and when she does, alone and with no beneficiary, she’ll go kiss the ground my mother walked on before being shoved into her special place in hell.
But an ominous feeling has been nagging at my chest ever since she asked about Aspen. By name.
So I make my way to her office. The last time I spent time with her was three days ago, when Gwen decided it was a good idea to cock-block me.
As if that’s not blasphemous enough, she’s proceeded to steal Aspen’s time every night since. Sometimes with Nate.
To say my dick is planning mass destruction on those two is the understatement of the century. I might have paid them a visit unannounced last night and cock-blocked Nate until Gwen fell asleep, for which he kicked me in the shin. Naturally, I kicked him back. Then we had a boxing match for old times’ sake.
That still didn’t relieve the tension, though.
And once again, I refuse to jack off like a thirteen-year-old. So that leaves Aspen with sexual frustration issues to resolve, preferably now.
So imagine my fucking surprise when her assistant, a short woman with long hair and gold-framed glasses, tells me, “She’s taken the afternoon off, sir.”
“Are we talking about the same Aspen Leblanc, or have you picked up a side gig and become someone else’s assistant?”
She appears stunned for a second, then blurts, “I’m talking about Ms. Leblanc. She usually doesn’t work this day of the year.”
I check the date on my watch to confirm it’s not Gwen’s birthday. Aspen mentioned that, since she thought her daughter had died, she got drunk on her grave and mourned her.
Though the getting drunk part is a nasty habit that she has sans mourning.
“Do you know why she doesn’t work on this particular day?”
The woman slowly shakes her head. “Ms. Leblanc isn’t exactly the sharing type.”
Don’t I fucking know it.
The dip between my brows could fit the Atlantic Ocean as I leave Aspen’s office. There’s a fifty percent chance Nate knows what’s up, but I’m not willing to risk the other fifty percent and have him smell something.
Besides, considering she’s never had a heart-to-heart with him about her dark origins, I might as well lower that percentage to thirty.
I retrieve my phone and pause as I stare at the cockteasing pictures she sent me over the course of the past few days.
Because, apparently, the inability to touch her isn’t enough, so she has to taunt me with what I’m missing. Or what I could be doing if Gwen hadn’t picked up the habit of hanging around her like a clingy shadow.
I search my surroundings to make sure no one gets a glimpse of her nakedness, then type a text.
Kingsley:You haven’t answered my calls all day, so now would be a good time to.
Kingsley:And you better kick Gwen out today at the pretense of having a cold.
