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“I’m still confused as to how all this relates to me?” I move things along because with everything that’s coming out of her degenerate mouth, my rage compounds. I can’t trust myself to keep my cool much longer.
“You’re dating her, which means she’s hogging all the media attention from my pending wedding.”
My jaw drops because who the hell says that kind of shit?
“You’re here because you don’t want us to be as public about our relationship?”
She shakes her head. “I’m here because I’m fucking tired of seeing Arianne’s stupid, grinning face all over the place. I refuse to be overshadowed by Miss Holy Fucking Chic. I hired one of the top PR companies in New York to document the journey to my big day. This is supposed to be my time to shine. My year. My big moment. My opulent royal wedding.” She slams a closed fist against her chest with each statement. Given the massive size of her breasts, I really should say, her shoulder. “All eyes are supposed to be on me, but nooooo. My loser of a cousin had to snag a multi-billionaire CEO who just happens to be a former rock star. Chance isn’t repulsive per se, but let’s face it, he’s a far cry from a super hot and much younger hunk like you.”
Talk about stand by your man.
“This aggravating media circus needs to stop and you’re going to make it happen!”
There’s a truckload of bitterness and dare I say, a scary layer of batshit craziness in that tirade.
“I don’t see how I can help,” I say.
“I’m going to give you an ultimatum.”
My eyebrows pull together. “Are you high?”
She lifts her phone at eye level. “Remember, I can destroy Arianne Buchanan in a heartbeat.” I’m this close from leaping across my desk to wrestle that fucking phone out of her goddamn hand. “Imagine the negative implications for your upcoming SCORE Yours and your company at large if I were to leak the sex videos Chance recorded of my dumb cousin.”
The bitch is threatening me on top of threatening my girl?
Once again, I coax myself to simmer down the volcano raging inside me.
“What do you want me to do?” I ask.
“Finally, you’re asking the right question.” Mariah smirks.
I expect her to elaborate, but she stands up instead.
She drops her phone and handbag on my desk, undoes the sash at her waist, unbuttons her coat and exposes her body clad in a white mini see-through dress.
My head jerks back in surprise.
Her gigantic tits with huge areolas are just staring at me. Same for her full bush.
“These juicy melons are a hell of a lot better than Arianne’s small oranges.” Mariah cups her breasts, squeezing them with a moan.
How can she walk without tipping over?
“And what about this?” She turns around to expose her ass.
When Arianne said her cousin went for the reality TV starlet butt implant, she wasn’t joking. That ass is a monstrosity, and it looks like it’s made of rubber.
“I bet you want to fuck me,” she says, looking over her shoulder.
So my dick can fall off from the STDs? Yeah, I’ll pass.
I’m so repulsed, I want to barf.
Still, I maintain my composure.
“Thanks for the offer, Mariah, however, I’m in a relationship with Arianne. I don’t stray.”
Mariah flips around to face me. “Fucking Arianne again!” Her hands fly in the air before landing on her thighs in a loud thump. “Here’s what you don’t understand, I call the shots! You have two choices—you fuck me, or I leak the videos of your so-called girlfriend on the internet.”
