Page 18 of Morally Corrupt

"Are you okay?” I turn toward Bianca to ask, and she gives me a soft nod, her big, luminous eyes wide as she's looking at me as if I'm her knight in shining armor.

"Let's not get too ahead of ourselves." Martin gets up, coming around to check on Bering. "I'm sure Anthony here only meant well." I frown at his words, and a glance at Bianca tells me I should drop it. I didn't realize her father was so callous to her — his own child. But Martin being Martin . . . It doesn't surprise me. It just makes me feel even worse for her. What is her life even like, having a self-serving narcissist for a father? He clearly doesn't care about her.

"If you'll excuse me," I say rather tersely and take my leave before I do something worse. I already feel bad for leaving Bianca there, an innocent lamb for their slaughter, but I need to realize she's not my concern.

You just met her!

My brain is telling me to drop it, but my heart . . .

Fuck!

I'm almost in the driveway when someone calls out my name. I stop and turn. Bianca is running toward me, her long skirt hampering her movements.

"Mr. Hastings," she says, huffing out a breath as she reaches me.

"Are you okay? What happened?" I immediately ask, my previous thoughts promptly forgotten.

"I wanted to thank you. For what you did in there," she speaks softly, the corner of her mouth raising ever so slightly.

"You don't have to thank me. I did what anyone would have done."

"And yet you were the only one who did." She raises her head to look at me, and we stare at each other for a moment.

I lift my hand and I tug a stray strand of hair behind her ear, marveling at the softness of the texture.

"You shouldn't measure your worth by their words, Bianca."

"Thank you." She gives me another tremulous smile before dashing back toward the house.

I stare at her retreating figure and I know.

I'm in deep trouble.

Fuck!

***

For as long as I've been seeing Pink, we've never exchanged numbers or any personal details. We always scheduled our next meeting in the moment. Which is why I'm here. I will not stand her up, but I need to put a stop to our encounters.

I watch the door of the room open, and Pink struts in, her tits almost spilling out of her top. She drops her jacket to the floor and then she's on me.

"Pink," I say, stopping her hand from reaching for my crotch.

"What?" she pouts at me.

"We need to talk." My tone is different from usual, and I find that I'm not in the mood for any games.

"We can talk . . . and do other things." She smiles, her hand creeping up my thigh.

"No. That's exactly what I want to talk to you about. We can't do this anymore." I grab her hand, trying to put some distance between us.

"What do you mean?" She frowns, tilting her head to the side.

"I'm trying to pursue someone and it wouldn't be right . . ."

"Who?" She cuts me off, her voice holding an edge to it.

I raise an eyebrow at her. We'd agreed on no personal details.

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