I make myself yet another cup of coffee, just for something to do, before heading into the enormous TV room.
The plush leather armchairs are ridiculously comfortable, and the screen is the size of a movie theatre. But even a film isn’t enough to cure my boredom.
I’m restless and on edge, twitchy as each second ticks by until Ronan comes home.
Maybe it’s because he’s so unpredictable. I mean, one minute we’re ripping into each other, and the next his eyes turn molten as he promises to join me in the bath. Each night, I have no idea which version of him I’m going to get, which both infuriates and thrills me at the same time.
Ignoring the film on the screen, I open my phone and mindlessly scroll through my pictures. It’s mostly just selfies of Mila and me in various club bathrooms, and I chuckle to myself as I relive the memories.
That is, until I come across a familiar thumbnail of a video from my twenty-first birthday a few years ago.
My breath catches in my throat as I press play, and my father’s face fills the screen, his cheeks flushed from the wine and his green eyes sparkling with pride.
“I’m so proud of you, baby girl.” He raises a glass. “The world is at your feet, Ciara, and wherever your journey takes you, I want you to remember that you’re strong, smart, and fierce as hell, just like your mother.”
My eyes sting, and I blink hard, but the tears fall anyway.
“I miss you,” I whisper, hugging the phone to my chest. “So much.”
My father was everything to me. He wasn’t just my protector. He was my anchor. No matter what, he’d always be there to pick me up when I fell down.
But the Sullivans took him from me, and how do I honor my father’s memory?
By marrying one of them.
Wiping my face, I sit up, anger starting to replace the ache in my chest.
I’ve wasted the whole day wallowing, but not anymore. I’m not here to be Ronan’s plaything. I’m here because I had no choice, but I’ll be damned if I don’t use the opportunity to take him down.
The first place I decide to look through is Ronan’s office, but to my annoyance, the door is locked, and I have a feeling it will take a lot more than a hairpin to get inside.
“Crap.” I slam my hand against the door.
I’m under no illusion that there are plenty of secrets hidden inside, but it’ll be pretty obvious I’ve been snooping if Ronan comes home to find I’ve broken down the door, so I need to try a different angle.
I need tothink.
Ronan is a smart man, but this is his home after all, the one place he allows himself to relax. He might think he doesn’t let anything slide through the cracks, but I’m sure if I look hard enough, I can find something.
Abandoning the office, I head back upstairs and along the hall until I come to Ronan’s room. I’ve not been back here since the night of the wedding, and the sight of the enormous double bed heats my blood.
This isexactlywhat Ronan wants. He wants me distracted by my own needs so I forget who and what he is.
A monster.
Fueled by rage, I start digging through the nightstands, pulling open the drawers and sifting through the contents.
There’s nothing out of the ordinary. Just some deodorant, an empty notebook, a pair of cufflinks, and a string of condoms in the very back.
I might not have seen him naked, but I definitely saw how much he was packing beneath his pants the other night, and my mouth goes painfully dry as I picture Ronan kneeling before me, his enormous cock in his hand as he slides a condom over it?—
“Oh, hell no!” I slam the drawer shut.
I move to the dressing room next and start rifling through his clothes.
Every item is impeccable and ironed to perfection. He has tailored suits in shades of navy, charcoal, and black, shelves of expensive watches, and rows of polished shoes.
I pull out the drawers and find stacks of black t-shirts, workout shorts, and jogging pants. But as much as I try to keep my focus, Ronan has my mind well and truly in the gutter.
