Seven fucking days.
Aalyiah: Can’t stop thinking about what you said earlier. When can I see you again?
Alex: Whenever you want, sweetheart.
Aalyiah: Now. I can sneak out.
Alex: I don’t want you to get in trouble...
Aalyiah: I won’t, I promise.
He didn’t try convincing her it wasn’t a good idea. She was barely eighteen, a daughter of a mafia man, always in danger.
Rhett should’ve had a bodyguard shadowing her every move. He should’ve looked after her better, but... he didn’t and Aalyiah snuck out of the mansion.
Judging by the next texts, she stayed out till five in the morning doing God knows what.
I down the rest of my drink, powering through a few more pages. Another week and they’re texting almost constantly. Hundreds of messages exchanged late into the nights.
I keep scrolling, my heartrate gaining pace as I watch their relationship evolve. I’m almost done with my second drink when what I dreaded most appears.
A month. That’s how long my innocent little sister waited before letting that fucker put his hands on her.
I grip the laptop with both hands, my fingers digging into the plastic. The idea of any man close to Aalyiah drives me crazy. Every protective instinct inside me goes haywire.
He touched her.
He fucked her.
I’m so unhinged it takes me three tries before I can read through the entire exchange.
Aalyiah: Tonight was beautiful. I love you.
Alex: I love you too. Rest, sweetheart. You might be sore tomorrow, so try to spend the day in bed, okay?
Aalyiah: Can I spend it in your bed?
Alex: You won’t get any rest if you’re in my bed. I can’t wait to feel you again, sweetheart.
Aalyiah: Yes, please.
Alex: I’ll pick you up after work.
My head hits the back of the chair, hot wrath burning my veins. Alex is lucky he’s dead. If he weren’t I’d drag him through hell and back. He’d beg me to kill him.
I’m sick to my stomach thinking how that scumbag used Aalyiah for personal gain. He pretended to be something he wasn’t to make her fall in love with him, then used her feelings to infiltrate my father’s organization.
I’ve barely scratched the surface, less than two hundred pages in, but I can’t go any further without bursting into flames. I slam the laptop closed, set it aside and gulp the rest of my drink, tapping my signet ring against the glass.
I need a break. A distraction. Something to sooth the wrath burning me from the inside.
At the flick of a metaphorical switch, Hailey hijacks my thoughts.
Hailey and the hundreds of carefully assembled molds I’ve tried to shove her into... none of which fit.
Hailey and her fucking perfect ass, pursed lips, and big steel-blue eyes staring at me with awed fear.
Fuck, this girl’s messing with my wiring.
