Those piercing eyes.
The rose cheeks.
The wild gaze.
The desire.
The anger.
The mess.
But I can’t.
Because I have forgotten myself.
“Home,” I say and leave. She doesn’t stop me.
And only when I am in the elevator and back in the Manhattan air, I realize there is no home. There is only the mess I made. Because I couldn’t stay away. I have betrayed myself.
I should have put a bullet in her head.
Stabbed her with the knife.
Who cares what she has done if she’s a greedy billionaire anyway?
“Fuck,” I breathed out. “What have I done?”
10
LILIAN
PLAYLIST: SALT – AVA MAX
My eyes follow her as she moves, and part of me wishes to seize her, tell her to come back, and make her understand her place. My mind is a whirlwind of thoughts. Whatever just occurred wasn’t what I had intended.
I roll back my shoulders, trying to shake off the feeling lingering in my chest—only it doesn’t work.
She took control from me.
She controlled me, and the worst thing was that I enjoyed it. Never have I experienced anything like it. Right now, I want to murder and devour her at the same time. The thing with her was supposed to be easy, clear rules, business as usual; she was to be shy and submissive.
Now I’m a mess with longings who stares at a closed door.
“She gone?” asks Doug and rips me from my thoughts. I snap back into business mode. Control. It gives me all the control.
“Yes,” I say and ignore his cocked eyebrow. “I’ll sleep here, get some rest, business as usual tomorrow.”
Every single one of my days looks precisely the same. Predictability. Structure. Rules.
I have made excuses lately, because of a woman I thought would be a shy, devoted girl. Instead, she’s cheeky, bratty, and overstepping.
I need to get her out of my head!
And yet, the thoughts of what she has done float around my mind.
I get ready for bed with my seven-step routine. Doug has laid out everything for me.
In bed, I try to fall asleep, but my body has flashbacks of what happened.
