Page 19 of Morally Corrupt

"You don't need to know about it." My voice is impersonal as I say this, but it's better to end things on friendly terms. And going by her reaction, I sense some underlying jealousy.

I stand up and go for the door, but she grabs onto my hand.

"Why? What does she have that I don't?"

"Stop this," I say, disentangling myself from her. There went my attempt at a parting on good terms.

"No. You must tell me. Does she fuck you like I do?" She scowls, and the viciousness of her words leaves me speechless. Maybe I've given her false hope, but while our chemistry has always been amazing, that's all it's ever been. And I was clear from the beginning.

"Bye, Pink." I turn toward the door once more.

"Tell me!" She raises her voice. "Does she worship your cock like I do?" On her knees, her hands go to my fly. I swat them aside, locking her wrists above her head.

If I must be cruel, then so be it. At least she'll understand that it's over.

"No, but that's just the thing. She's too pure and innocent for that." I push her aside and leave. I can still hear her screams behind me, and I shake my head.

Maybe it is my fault. Maybe I gave her too much attention with our weekly meetings, and she imagined there would be more to our affair. It was just fucking. Savage, out of this world fucking, but it was just fucking.

This woman, though, the one that's been haunting my dreams?

She's my future wife.

6

BIANCA

I'd gone through the worst torment of my life in the last few weeks. So wrecked with worry I'd been that Theo had fallen in love with someone that I could barely sleep. I'd resorted to keeping myself awake by sniffing more and more white powder, all the while checking all surveillance devices I'd placed on his person.

But nothing happened. He never met with anyone.

My paranoia was getting the best of me, and I simply could not focus on anything else but Theo's mystery woman. Who was she? How was she better than me?

Most importantly, how do I kill her?

One late afternoon, I am going through one report that my P.I. had compiled on Theo. So focused I am on what I'm doing that I barely pay any attention to the notice that someone is asking to see me. I absentmindedly think it must be Drew.

Ever since I've become more independent, he'd started stepping back from his duties and had even married last year. Now, he mostly works remotely if I have any assignments for him. He's also the perfect alibi when my father decides to show some interest in what I’mdoing.

I head downstairs, and to the drawing room, expecting to see Drew. Instead, I'm more than surprised when it's Theo who is waiting inside the room, his back to the entrance.

I carefully step inside, suddenly alert and curious to the reason for his visit.

"Bianca." He turns, offering me half a smile. I reciprocate, putting on my best act.

"Mr. Hastings." I greet him back, still addressing him formally.

"Call me Theo, please," he says, motioning me to the settees.

"Theo." I settle on the couch next to him but still keep an appropriate distance — even if it's killing me. My nostrils are flaring ever so slightly as I take in the scent of him, his nearness, both of which I'd missed so agonizingly much over the last few weeks.

"What brings you here?" I ask, schooling my features to reflect my confusion at his presence when all I want is to jump his bones, tell him to take me right here.

"I wanted to make sure you're ok. After last time . . ." he pauses, "I hope nothing happened after I left." His concern floors me, but then I realize what this is all about.

I'm just a battered woman to him, someone in need of saving. So he's taken it upon himself to make sure I am ok. If I didn't know this was Theo's nature — to save everyone — I might have been hopeful at his inquiry. But as it stands, I can see that I am just another pet project for him.

From reading his file and following his daily life, I'd drawn some conclusions about what makes Theodore Hastings the man he is — his humanity. He simply can't help himself when he sees anyone in trouble, offering to help even if it might be to his disadvantage. He's simply that good, the opposite of me.

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