AllFreeNovel
Share Us
They’d call me a martyr, and she’d never be able to call me on my bullshit.
I tied my newly bought black tie and scowled at the mirror in front of me. The walk-in closet had been thoroughly cleaned and the ruined items replaced.
I patted the depth of my drawer for the framed picture I’d been looking at every time I needed to remember where I came from, and where I wanted to go.
It wasn’t there.
Slowly, I pulled the drawer all the way out until it was fully opened.
The photo still wasn’t there.
Francesca either destroyed it or took it with her. My money was on the former since she was positively certified after finding out I’d fucked her boyfriend’s latest toy.
Was she expecting me to watch her publicly grind over another man’s cock and hand her a condom?
Either way, she’d taken it too far.
I stormed out of my room, stalking my way to the east wing. Sterling jumped in my way down the hall just as she exited her own room.
She flung her arms in the air, cackling like a happy hen.
“Your fiancée is looking ravishing, Senator Keaton! I cannot wait for you to see how beaut…” She did not complete the sentence.
I bulldozed past her wordlessly, straight to Francesca’s room.
Sterling stumbled after me before I barked, “Don’t you even dream about it, you old hag.”
I threw the door to Nemesis’s room open without knocking.
This time, she really did it.
The clothes and ties were just money, and meaningless in the grand scheme of things. The picture, however, was priceless.
I found my bride sitting in front of her vanity mirror, wearing a tight black velvet dress—it looked like we coordinated something other than trying to stab each other—a lit cigarette dangling from the corner of her luscious lips.
She was shoving mud into a pot, gardening in the middle of her bedroom, in a Chanel evening dress.
She was crazy.
And she was my crazy.
What in the fresh hell did I get myself into?
I waltzed to her briskly, plucking the cigarette from her mouth and snapping it in half in one hand. She looked up, batting her eyelashes.
She was a smoker. Another thing I loathed about her, and people, in general.
At this rate, I was seriously contemplating getting to know this girl just so I could destroy her more thoroughly. Even though I decided upon requesting her hand that I didn’t want to be privy to anything about her—other than, maybe, how her warm, sleek cunt felt as I pummeled into it.
“Do not smoke inside my house,” I growled.
My voice leaked fury, and that pissed me off even more. I was never angry, never affected, and above all—never one to give one single fuck about anything other than myself.
She rose to her feet, slanting her head slightly with an amused smile.
“You mean our house.”
“Don’t play games with me, Nemesis.”
