Chapter 27
Milo
My gorgeous girl thought she could cross borders and I wouldn’t follow.
Naive doesn’t even begin to cover it.
When she disappears from my sight for more than a few hours, something in my gut twists.
I need eyes on her every day, all the time.
She genuinely believes I would let her leave the country and simply accept not seeing her for days, which tells me exactly how little she understands me.
It is an addiction at this point.
The jet hums smoothly beneath my feet as we glide through the clouds toward the Swiss Alps.
I lean back with a glass of vodka in hand, staring out the window, my leg bouncing impatiently.
Isaak sits facing me, his arms crossed, a scowl set on his face. Arlo lounges nearby, absorbed in his phone. Hunter takes the seat opposite, his expression inscrutable, as he looks down at the phone on the table in front of him with a deadly expression, as though the phone itself had wronged him.
Apparently, we are all headed to Switzerland, which comes as no surprise to me.
Isaak is supposed to despise Adelaide. At least, that’s the story. Yet here he is, on a private jet, flying straight toward a woman he allegedly wants nothing to do with.
I have never had much patience for lies, especially the ones people tell themselves.
Pathetic if you ask me.
And really, they’re all the same. These men who insist they cannot stand the women they circle, who sneer and act indifferent while rearranging their lives around them.
I’m not fooled.
I see straight through it.
They call me a psycho.
When I’m the only one willing to admit what the rest of them choke on in private.
I’m obsessed.
And at least I have the decency not to lie about wanting my gorgeous girl entirely, without any pretence.
And I am proud of it.
They pretend to hate, while their actions scream obsession and a lack of control that verges on idiocy.
If it makes them feel better, I truly don’t give a shit.
The only thing I care about in this world is my girl.
I close my eyes so I can see her face, and I smirk because I miss her, more than anything.
I want to kiss her again, to feel those damn lips on mine, to bite her and finally claim her completely, to have my cock buried so deep inside her and leave my marks all over her body.
She is mine, and still she avoids it, fights it.
How she does not see that this… us, is inevitable is beyond me.
