Page 45 of Rich Forever: Zo & Remy

He didn’t speak for a while, and I felt like he let the sting of the words settle in his rotten spirit.

“You’re right. I never meant to hurt you, Remy. I don’t apologize for anything, but I’m sorry for what happened that night between us.” He said as he tapped his gun on his leg.

Yeah… he felt sorry. But only for himself. I didn’t acknowledge it; it was no use. He had switched personalities fifteen times in the last five minutes. He alternated between evil, lovesick, villain, and victim. He hadn’t changed; all his demons were just given an alias. On paper, he may have been a decorated philanthropist. But Karlos Weston was still that same piece of shit. Douglas Black was nothing but a costume.

We sat in silence as he poured another glass.

The sound of the dripping water was louder now that we had quieted. Now it sounded less annoying and more like the seconds on the clock. It was like a countdown, ticking down the minutes until Zo was coming through the door.

It was a slow march until the moment when hell and earth would collide. And soon, Karlos would find out the type of man that I married. The man whom I wasproudto be married to.

He pulled his chair closer to me, leaned forward, and inhaled the scent of my hair, and I could feel him kissing my head. I sat as still as a statue, but the thought of anybody touching me intimately other than my husband made me sick. But still, never wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me flinch, I chose to create some distance between us.

“Karlos, can you untie me so I can go to the restroom, please?” I asked softly. I was mindful of my tone. If he wanted control, I was going to let him think he had it.

“There’s a bucket in the corner I can undress you, and you can use it.” He offered while still rubbing my hair.

“Please?” I asked again. He stared at me with his one good eye. Probably battling with the idea of untying me.

He reached behind me to loosen the rope, and in an instant, I was hopeful. But just as quickly, he pulled back. “No.”

I sighed.

“The bucket or nothing.” He doubled down.

I shimmied in the seat, trying my best to make him believe that if he didn’t allow me to go soon, I would wet myself.

“I’m not going in a bucket, and you know that. Please? I’m about to pee on myself.” I groaned and crossed my legs.

That struck a nerve. Because Karlos the psycho, thief, kidnapper, and murderer was still a neat freak. He had always been very particular, probably had OCD. He had slapped one of his housekeepers for putting fruit in the wrong order, washed his hands like a surgeon, and bathed multiple times a day, so I knew that he would never allow me to do so. It would ruin his image of me. In his mind, it would probably make me dirty and less desirable than blatantly telling him I hate him.

He grabbed the gun and loosened the knot that was through the rope connecting me to the chair, but my hands were still bound. Though the rope that he removed gave me just enoughwiggle room for my hands. Not enough to slip off, but definitely enough to slip free. He didn’t notice, and I didn’t mention it.

He gave me a look meant to serve as a silent warning as he forced me to my feet and guided me from the chair to the door, which required a code to enter and exit. He stepped in front of me, blocking the keypad to ensure I couldn’t see past his large frame. Once the door opened, he pushed me into the hallway. My eyes swept the place quickly, no windows, no visible doors, only a couple of stairs to the left of us leading to the upper level.

Instead of going toward them, we turned right, and he led me down a short but dark hallway. There was a door there that he opened and turned on the light. It was bare, except for a small toilet in the middle of the room and a sink.

I shimmied again, devoted to my role.

“Just wait,” he insisted lowly as he struggled to get down on one knee. He placed the gun on the floor. I tracked it with my eyes, memorizing the distance. It was close enough for him to grab if necessary.

Then he lifted my shirt and tucked it underneath my bra. Leaning forward, he placed two soft kisses on my stomach. I wanted to knee him in the face and snap him from his delusion. But behind me, I was still struggling to wiggle my wrists free from the rope.

He unbuttoned my pants, and I could tell that he started to get aroused. His breathing changed and darkened. A low groan escaped his mouth, and I fought back the urge to fight him.

I shimmed harder, hoping the movement of my legs distracted him from me needing to wiggle my wrists a little more.

“Hurry, Karlos, I can’t hold it.” I ushered him along. Hoping that I interrupted whatever fantasy land he was about to teleport into next.

He didn’t let me, though. He didn’t acknowledge me. Not in words. Instead, he ran his fingertips down my exposed stomachand slowly zipped down my pants. With trembling hands, he started to roll the fabric over my hips. Just as he did it….

My arms were free.

Zo

Ibarely got the truck in park when I was out and walking through the ranch with my AR thrown over my shoulder and a gun on each hip. Kids were screaming, parents were grabbing and shielding their children. And they had every reason to do so, because I was about to turn the carnival into the cemetery.

“Nigga, slow the fuck down, what’s going on?” Judah asked as he jogged to catch up to me. I didn’t know that he had been following me from the office, but I wasn’t in the right mindset to address him. So, I didn’t.