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Chapter27
Don’t touch what’s mine
Jake
Did I think tonight would go as I hoped? Of course I did. But it didn’t go as I had hoped—it went the complete fucking opposite.
Mercedes should’ve known to keep his hands to himself, but the old grump always touches what he shouldn’t. He thinks having a shitload of money and power allows him to do whatever the fuck he pleases. How wrong he was. To say I hadn’t thought of slitting that man’s throat when I first met him would be a complete and utter lie. The number of women I have purchased from him, well, let’s just say he’s fucking disgusting. That man needed to learn some respect. But he was never going to learn it on his own, so I showed him exactly what type he deserves.
Oriana sits frozen next to me. I don’t know what to say to her, so I let her be and give her the space she needs on the car ride to the hotel. Her hands are tucked on her lap, and I can see her visibly shaking.
I reach for her, but she pulls away.
She’s too good for me.
I knew that from the moment I saw her, but I couldn’t stay away, no matter how hard I tried. And believe me, I did fucking try.
But when I saw her at that event, dressed in that dress and up on the stage, I just knew I couldn’t say no. I knew I had to bid on her, and I knew I would win. They say I am the king of bidding, not because I can outbid anyone, but because I always fucking win. Her being married at the time did not stop me one tiny bit.
We reach the hotel, and Maria is already there. She opens Oriana’s door, and she is quick to escape the car. Maria raises her brow, and all I say is “Mercedes.” She gives me her best eye roll before she follows Oriana inside.
I’m not sure if I should give her more breathing room or not, but I find her standing in the lobby, twirling her hair a sure sign of her wariness of what’s going to happen next.
Unsure of what to do, I walk over and place my hand on the small of her back. She doesn’t flinch, which I’m thankful for. Her eyes lock on mine, and I can see the confusion and pain in those rainforest greens staring back at me.
“I would never let anyone hurt you. I hope you know that,” I tell her sincerely. She stares silently at me, and I pull her hand from her hair and hold it loosely in mine. “Are you scared of me?”
Thick, long lashes fan her cheeks when she closes her eyes and takes a deep inhale. On the exhale, her lids raise, and those beautiful eyes once again find mine.
“I’m not scared of you, Jake. I’m more…” She’s trying to search for the right word. “Shocked. Shocked that you could so easily do that.” She shakes her head, and I reach for her hip, pulling her to me. She comes easily, and I wrap my arms around her.
“I’d do it again.” No lies are hidden in my response, and I know she can see that she knows.
“This is all a lot.”
And I agree. It would be very much for someone who has lived in a perfect little bubble her whole life and never had to do anything other than survive in that bubble. She doesn’t understand the workings of the underground, and I’m so thankful that she doesn’t. Oriana may be strong, of that, I have no doubt—I witnessed her pull herself back together after a night that would break most people—but I knew I had to show her the dark side because I want her. I want her more than my next fucking breath, and I absolutely hate that fact, but I also relish it.
“Everything that happened back there is a part of who I am. I am not, nor will I ever be, anything like your rock star husband.” She goes to speak, but I shake my head and continue, “You had the perfect life with him, but you weren’t happy. You do realize this, don’t you? I’ve seen more life from you since I’ve been with you than I did prior to knowing you.”
“You didn’t know me before?”
I smile at her question because even if she never saw me, I always saw her. From the moment she walked down that aisle and married Kyler, I thought, How does a son of a bitch like that get her? He never deserved her. He used her and worked her to the bone. And he had other women on the side—of which I’m sure she has no idea about. Every time I saw him with a woman who wasn’t Oriana, I would wonder, what is that pretty little redhead doing right now?
“You were beautiful in your wedding dress,” is the only response I can give her right now.
“I forgot Kyler said you were at our wedding. How and why were you there?”
“Do you want to sightsee tomorrow?” I ask, changing the subject completely.
Her mood has visibly shifted, and the tightness she was holding onto has relaxed just a little.
She replies with a simple “sure” and I take her hand and guide her to our suite. I ordered a room with two bedrooms, but I really hope—really fucking hope—that she’ll share the same bed with me, even if it’s only for a few hours.
Because the last thing I want to do is wake up with my hands around her neck again.
