“In hell.”
“Brielle …”
“Is this seat taken?” a guy asks.
“Nope,” I tell him. “It’s available, just like me.”
“Brielle Antonova, I swear to?—”
“Gotta go,” I singsong. “And if all goes well, unlike you, I won’t be fucking myself.”
I end the call, drop my phone into my purse, and pour Nicole, the man sitting next to me, and myself a shot.
“A toast,” I say, lifting my shot glass. “To not fucking ourselves.”
11
Kane
This woman is goingto be the death of me.
What the hell was I thinking?
The entire reason I’ve avoided any type of commitment is because I know how it ends. Women are like witches, casting their spells on the men around them and forcing them to ruin their lives. I love my mom, but I watched what loving her did to my dad, and I told myself I wouldn’t make the same mistakes he’d made.
Yet, here I am, forcing Brielle Antonova to marry me simply because her cunt tasted delicious and felt amazing, wrapped around my cock.
Since I’m still on the street Brielle lives on, I turn around and go back to the house, demanding to speak to Dominick. He’s controlling enough to keep tabs on his sister.
“She giving you a hard time?” He smirks when I ask him to locate her. “It’s not too late to change your mind. The contract has been drawn up for the waterfront expansion.”
When I don’t respond, he simply chuckles. “Sorry, but if she doesn’t want you to know where she is, that’s between you two.”
“She’s drunk at a bar somewhere. I understand your priority is your wife and kids, but who’s making Brielle a priority? And before you try to sell me on that waste of a guard, who’s wrapped around her finger, I doubt he’s doing anything to protect her.”
Dominick’s jaw clenches, and he pulls out his phone. “She’s at The Tavern.”
I thank him and turn to leave when Dominick calls my name.
“It’s not that I don’t make Brielle a priority,” he says. “Matteo and I spent years trying to protect her. But we failed her.”
I turn back around to look at him and can see the guilt written all over his features.
“This life … it broke her, and I don’t think she’ll ever be the same.”
She’s sittingat the bar with her friend Nicole and the guy I heard over the phone. She’s got a bottle of tequila in front of her, and she’s pouring another shot.
The guy says something to her, and her entire face lights up. She throws her head back in a laugh, exposing her slim throat, and the guy eyes her, no doubt imagining what it would be like to spend the night with her.
And I don’t blame him. Brielle is every man’s fantasy. Blonde hair and blue eyes. A smile that lights up the fucking dark. She’s got luscious tits, a toned waist, an ass that is perfect for fucking, and legs for goddamn days. But that’s only on the surface.
Men in our world want a woman like her on their arm. But they couldn’t handle her. The first word out of her mouth would have them shutting her down. It’s why she gravitated toward Theodore DeSantis. Rather than standing up to her, he gave in.
But that’s not what she needs.
She needs boundaries.
She craves control because she feels out of control.
