Page 65 of Ruthless God

Art is supposed to be shown to the world and helps people get out of their slumps and make them forget their worries. I always wanted to have a relationship with my mother, the way I see others have bonds with their mothers, but we never see eye to eye on a lot of shit. The only thing that makes her proud of me is my marriage to Snow. She wasn’t a bad mom growing up, she supported me in whatever I wanted in life… financially. She and Daddy paid for dance lessons, piano lessons, whatever I wanted, but more than anything I crave emotional support from her. My father has always encouraged me to do my own thing, have my own hobbies. Sometimes they would bump heads because they both had different goals. Yes, my father believed in arranged marriages, but he also encouraged me to go after my dreams. But my mother? She had a stick up her ass when it came to any dream I wanted to pursue.

Snow strokes my cheek, wiping away my tears with his thumb.

“She’s not happy I’m in college. She thinks my duty is to lie down and have your children and be a trophy wife, but I don’t want that. There is more to life than being your trophy wife, no offense. I want to travel the world and be kid-free, maybe until our thirties at least.” I shake my head. “Sometimes, I think my dreams are silly. When I told her Bailey and I wanted to start an art gallery together, she was livid. I feel as if she wants to put me into a box and keep me there.”

He shakes his head. “I think she wants what’s best for you, in her own way.”

I tilt my head to the side. “How? She doesn’t know what’s best for me. How could lying down for a man, bearing a child for him, and losing myself be best for me?”

He strokes the back of my hair, tilting my chin to look at him. “Do you know why we have arranged marriages in elite societies and the Billionaire Club?”

“Because of greed. It keeps the money going.”

He nods. “Yes, but they do it to build structure and image. Without a family, the gentleman’s club would go up in flames because there needs to be a structure.”

“Then why aren’t women owners of the club, why does it have to be all men?”

“Because when it first started, women didn’t have rights and men brought on so much power. I think if my father wasn’t married to my mother, the Billionaire Club wouldn’t be as successful. We wouldn’t be able to have the structure it now has.”

“I thought it was like a boys’ club for rich snobs who want to get their dicks wet.”

He chuckles against my forehead. “Yes, Blue. It is. And to network with other rich people, so they can keep their generational wealth going.”

He plants a kiss against my skin, and butterflies dance in my stomach.

“You can’t fuck around on me at the club.”

“I’ve never had the thought before.” He crinkles his nose. “Speak to your mother and tell her how you feel. She has her reasons for how she feels. Trust me.”

“I don’t know if I’m ready to speak to her.”

“If you don’t, I will,” he warns.

“Fine. I will.”

“Good girl.”

My gaze meets his. “Do you believe in my artwork? Do you believe it will be possible to have a successful art career?”

“Yes, Blue. My girl can do whatever she puts her mind to,” he says before he kisses me slowly.

Snow

My fiancée thinks she’s slick. She purposely left her phone at home so I won’t track her every move, but little does she know that when she pulled that stunt with Melvin, I had my family doctor give her a shot under the skin of her right ass cheek, and I can track her everywhere she goes just in case she loses her phone. It’s a precaution, so if she goes anywhere I tell her not to go, she will be punished for it.

She’s having dinner with Professor Carter without informing me because she knew I wouldn’t approve of it, so I smooth out my tie and wear my dark, navy suit. I want to match her navy dress she decided to wear for this so-called dinner. When I saw her getting dressed, I asked her where she was heading, to which she replied she was having dinner with her friends.

Once I make it to the restaurant, which is located on the other side of town, I spot her sitting next to him, along with two other girls.

I want to cut off his tongue and watch him choke on his own blood for having my girl’s attention. For her putting her handon his shoulder and throwing her head back, laughing. Shit isn’t that damn funny for her to be laughing the way she is. She’s only supposed to laugh at my jokes. I might kill him for putting that smile on her face, because no other man should put a smile on her facebut me.

I maneuver my way to the crowded dining area, then pull up a chair from an empty table and squeeze in between Lyrical and Professor Carter. Frowning, he smooths out his dark hair.

I drop a kiss on her forehead. “I’m sorry I’m late, baby. I had some shit to take care of.”

Lyrical glares at me as if she wants to poke my eyes out. “What are you doing here?”

I bring the back of her hand to my lips and plant kisses on her knuckles. “I’m here to support you. He’s displaying your artwork in his art gallery, right? I thought I’d show you my support.”

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