Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
My wife is a manipulative, crazy bitch.
These mind games she plays—and has played them well since the day we started dating—are beyond fucked-up. In the past, I put up with her because she was the partner I needed. Not true love, like my first wife, but a companion. Someone to attend functions with and to show off at social events.
Neena is flawless.
Platinum-blond hair. Perfect, paid-for tits. A slender body kept in shape from a lifetime of eating healthy and obsessive yoga sessions.
When she enters a room, every damn eye—both male and female—is drawn to her. She can schmooze just as well as I can, which makes those around us view us as a powerhouse couple.
Very few see the woman beneath all the shiny perfection.
A vindictive, cruel woman who toys with the hearts of the ones she loves. I’ve seen her do it with her family, her friends, me, and her daughter.
Like now…
Pulling a disappearing act, knowing how important her presence is to my campaign.
With a heavy sigh, I forward the newest charges to Jude’s email. My little brother is a genius when it comes to digging up dirt on people. But Neena has managed to evade him. All of his usual investigation tactics have come up empty.
Neena will reveal herself when she chooses.
And, knowing her, she’ll pick impeccable timing. Like the eve of poll day. I have this sinking feeling she’ll toss around threats of divorce in order for me to bend to her will. I wish she’d just demand what she wants so I could give it to her, avoiding all this uncertainty altogether.
If she’d answer her goddamn phone, I could get to the bottom of this whole tantrum she’s throwing.
My desk phone chirps to life and for a split second, I think it’s Neena. A quick glance at the caller ID and I deflate to see it’s my assistant, Karla, instead.
As soon as I answer, she announces I have a visitor waiting in the lobby. I affirm I’ll see the visitor, needing a break from my inner Neena-related turmoil. Seconds later, the door opens, revealing the woman who’s come to see me.
At first, all I see are long, bare, tanned legs that shimmer in the sunlight pouring in from the window behind me. An intricate tattoo covers her whole right thigh, disappearing beneath frayed, cutoff shorts. From this distance, I can’t see what it is, but my dick twitches at the idea of inspecting it up close. Slowly, I peruse my gaze over a pierced bellybutton peeking between her denim shorts and beige cropped top. The shirt is thin, revealing a black bra underneath. I continue my trek to her plump, glossy lips and then to her nose piercing. When I land on the eyes, I freeze.
“Hey.” She waves, jangly bracelets clinging against one another. “Long time, no see.”
For half a second, I think it’s Neena—tattooed and pierced, rebelling against the version I know—but all the pieces snap together in an instant, revealing who it is I’m actually looking at.
Aubrey.
Little Aubrey all grown up.
My stepdaughter.
I inwardly cringe at the fact I’m sporting a chub in my slacks, still hung up on the tattoo on her thigh. This day just keeps getting better and better.
“Aubrey,” I greet, voice tight with unease. “How’ve you been, Love?”
She saunters toward me, hips moving in a way I’ve never seen from her before, and stops in front of my desk. From this close, I can smell her.
Sunshine and fresh peaches.
The scent that was so innocent and sweet just a couple of years ago now awakens dormant parts of me. Parts that have no business slinking their way out of the dark corners of my mind. The sweet innocence is now a smell that taunts and teases.
“I’ve been better,” she says, voice soft.
The defeat in her tone, though barely perceptible, has me snapping into action. All sick, twisted stirrings are shoved away as concern courses through me. I rise to my feet and stride around my desk. Grabbing her shoulders, I tug her to me, folding her into my arms.
She’s tense at first and then relaxes into my hug, resting her cheek against my chest. I rub my palm up and down her spine, offering any comfort I can.
“You’ve been a stranger, kid,” I say, voice gruff. “Never come to visit us anymore.”
“I’m not exactly welcome around here.”
I scoff at that statement. “Nonsense. You know we all love you.”
She pulls back, the comfortable familiarity between us dissipating and making room for this new awkwardness. Her brow furls and she sits down in the chair on the other side of my desk. Rather than returning to my seat, I take the one beside her.
“Try telling Spencer that.” Her green eyes dart toward mine, hurt shining in them. “He wouldn’t even let me in the house.”
That little shit.