Page 75 of Bona Fide

“Let me save you the boring details,” she offers, clasping her hands together to rest on her tan dress. “You’re now known as the new whore around here.”

I blink at her.

The fuck?

“There is video footage of you screwing—well, quite a few people at the Governor’s ball.”

My brows furrow. “Have you lost your everliving mind? I was barely there for—”

“I’m not your judge or jury, Miss Shelton. I just want to dissolve the contract so that you can’t cause any harm to the governor’s campaign. This is a very important time.” She nods at her men and one of them round me, marching down the hallway of my house.

“Hey!” I call out, starting to follow. “Get the hell out of—”

“Are you missing a dress, Miss Shelton?” Demi asks innocently, causing me to slowly turn back around.

It hits me like a fucking brick wall.

She was wearing my navy dress that night at the governor’s ball.

I mean, I thought she had it on, pretty positive, but I couldn’t prove it. I never did come back home and go through my closet to actually look because I was so pissed off at Wade that it slipped my mind.

Plus, I mean, it was kinda crazy to begin with. Breaking into my house to take a dress?

“It fit like a glove,” Demi professes nonchalantly like we’re friends. Like she had every right to walk into my home and touch my shit.

“You dumb fucking bitch,” I snap, clutching my hands that are now fists.

“I need the papers in that folder signed before I leave today.” She glances down at her manicured fingernails. “You won’t be responsible for buying yourself out of the contract, it’s only a little over a month left.”

“No one can prove that the person in this so-called video is me,” I retort. “And Wade isn’t going to—”

“Fuck, yes, babe,” groans a deep male voice in the room. My head snaps to the sound of it just to see Demi’s bodyguard holding up a cell phone with a video playing.

I step closer, eyes squinted in at the couple.

“You want this dick, Miss Shelton?” the male asks, continuing to thrust his cock inside Demi, who’s wearing my fucking dress.

They’re on a couch, Demi straddling a man whose face I can’t see because she’s blocking him. But the person shooting the video is behind a marigold-colored curtain, the bottom of it still outlining some of the shot because they don’t want to be seen.

It’s then that I realize that Demi and I almost have the same build, the same features. My hair is darker than hers but you can’t tell in the limited lighting of the room.

What you can see though, is that damn silk dress and a woman that looks almost identical to me.

“Give me more, Donald,” Demi moans deeply. “Please.”

“I never thought you’d let me fuck you,” the man alludes. “You’re so fucking tight and ready for me, aren’t you? I’m going to make you come all night. You’re going to be—” I slap the phone right out of her bodyguard’s hand, and it flies across the room.

Next, I’m in Demi’s face, praying to God she smacks me. I can feel the heat scalding off my face.

Mama watches the news. And if this is truly all over the local news stations, she’s going to see it.

“I would never say please, hoe,” I sneer. “I let the men beg for me.”

Demi huffs through her nose and smiles. “That was only Act One, did you want me to show you the others?”

Others?

I stretch my fingers at my sides that are itching to snatch her up by her locks and fuck her pretty little face up.

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