Suddenly, her hand rises between us, and she shoves my face away. “I think you should leave.”
It’s refreshing, really, how much she rejects me. And yet I’m smiling like a fool.
My cock presses painfully against my pants, and I make a point to adjust myself in front of her. She licks her bottom lip, and I know this is only a song and dance. One that I’m happy to play along with for as long as she thinks she can get away with it.
“Good night,Cattivella. Did you receive the toys I sent you? Think of me as you use them on yourself tonight,” I say with an arrogant smirk, then give Borris a quick scratch on the head, rewarding him for being my comrade in shooing the other fucker out.
“I threw them out, you pig,” Romi calls out behind me.
I look over my shoulder, smiling. “No, you didn’t. They’re all in the box on my bed. Don’t tell me you’re into sniffing my sheets. That’s just sickening.”
Her jaw drops, and I chuckle as I go to close the door behind me, but then I remember something. “Oh, your agent was here this evening, said she was worried about an upcoming collection you haven’t completed yet. Let me know if you need to paint me like a French girl anytime soon.”
The bouquet of roses is aimed at my head, and I chuckle as I close the door just in time to hear them thud against it.
Later that night, I whistle a cheery tune as I follow the droplets of blood down the stairs, beginning my hunt for the guy I threw out of the apartment. Because there’s no fucking way I’m letting any man live after he’s touched what ismine.
21
ROMI
Igroan as loud banging begins on the apartment door, waking me up. My head feels like it’s splitting in two.
Borris is first to jump off the bed to investigate, but I can only think of one person with so much tenacity. Then again, apparently, he just lets himself in.
“I’m coming,” I grumble, wearing nothing but my PJ shorts and midriff-baring top. I had a freezing shower last night, trying to wake myself up from the reality that I had somehow fallen under Dante’s fucking spell yet again. The moment he’s in my space, I can’t think straight—even to the point of denying myself the one thing that usually helps take my mind off things. Fucking.
Denying a man like Dante is painful, because besides his twisted personality, the man is a fucking dream to ride. But I won’t fall for his charm this time.
I’m yawning as I open the door, and an icy sensation washes over me when I see who's on the other side.
“Meredith?” I haven’t seen Lorraine’s mother since the funeral.
Her nose rises higher, the way it always has when dealing with me. She glances over me, as if I’m nothing more than dirt on her shoe, and it raises my hackles. Last time we spoke, it hadn’t gone well. This time, although hungover, I’m not in a state of shock by her daughter’s death. In fact, I’m fucking ready to throw down this time.
“I’ve come for my daughter’s belongings, assuming you haven’t thrown them out already to make more space for your lifestyle.”
My gaze narrows on her. “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“You killed her!”Meredith’s voice has haunted me for three months now, ever since she made a spectacle at Lorraine’s funeral.I push away the reminder of those seething words from that day, each one burned into my fucking brain. I block the door, not allowing her to step one foot into this space. Come to think of it, I don’t even know how the fuck she got this address, because she was never welcome here.
“I just know your type are busy with all your little tea parties and yacht club events. I wouldn’t want to keep you. I want my daughter’s things. It’s the least you can do after everything you’ve done.”
That vile, raging creature unfurls within me, coming to the forefront, because of all the people who truly deserve its scathing burn—it's her. Yet, for whatever reason, Lorraine always looked after her, even in the times when she least deserved it.
“What, specifically, might you be after?” I ask considerately, only because I keep Lorraine in mind. Meredith hardly knows anything about her daughter. All she ever viewed her as was a secondary payroll, when her daughter was struggling to make ends meet.
I’d never told Lorraine, but I bought the apartment the moment they wanted to increase the rent; she was alreadystruggling to pay the bills. I told her I struck a deal with the landlord and set her rent at an amount she could afford so she wouldn’t have to leave Manhattan. The money was always put into another account I haven’t touched. I wanted to surprise her with it, but was always too scared to mention it in case she’d decided to give it to her undeserving mother.
I’ve never hated a woman as much as I do Meredith. I know a toxic mooch when I see one, and I saw how she drained, influenced, and manipulated Lorraine time and time again.
“Who do you think you are to question what I do and don’t want? I want it all. You have no right to my daughter’s belongings. Don’t make me call the police.”
I scoff and decide to close the door behind me so we’re both standing in the hallway, in hopes Borris refrains from barking at her. It says a fucking lot when her own daughter’s dog hates her. And I certainly don’t want her trying to claim Borris, because without a doubt, he’s mine now.
This place is off-limits to her. She has no business asking for her daughter's things when I know she most likely only wants to sell them.
“By all means, call the police so I can explain how you’re unwelcome in my apartment. So I can express the only reason you’re fishing around your daughter’s belongings is because your rent is due around now, isn’t it, Meredith?”
