Page 32 of Violent Hearts

Chapter 15

Jared

I wish I had arranged for a new wardrobe to be delivered for her before bringing her here. I've never had this issue with any of the other girls. They were professionals who'd been earning a good living all along by serving men like me. And they cared about how they looked and dressed. All of them brought trunk after trunk full of designer clothes to my penthouse when they moved in. They brought everything, from casual chic to classy and - of course - expensive and slutty.

It shows that Ann never had the money nor the desire to spruce herself up to that level. She's wearing the same outfit she wore the very first day I met her. It's not terrible, and it will serve for today, but I make a mental note to replace her wardrobe as soon as possible.

She's mad at me, and I allow it. I haven't heard a single word from her since last night.

"Fuck you."

Those were the last words she spit out at me. Normally, this would merit a punishment beyond measure, but I let it go for now. I can't be as strict with her as I could with all the other girls. She's still too new to this, and I don't want to ruin things between us, especially based on the potential she shows otherwise.

We left the apartment together, walking next to each other in silence, and I've decided to treat her with the same disregard she's showing me. It's been fine with me, for now.

She doesn't even look at me when I open the car door for her, and I let that go, too. But I need to make sure that she's no longer in a huff once we get to the office.

"Be as mad at me as you want,” I tell her once we’re inside the car. “But you had better make sure to behave in front of my staff."

I glance over at her, but her eyes are focused on watching the scenery as we make our way through the city. She's wearing her beautiful hair in a ponytail again, and I hate that.

I reach over and pull out the hair tie in a slow but decisive motion.

She grunts angrily, but lifts her hand just a moment too late to prevent me from freeing her hair. Long, heavy strands of shiny ash blond hair fall down over her shoulders as she turns around to finally look me in the eye.

"What the f-"

"I like your hair down," I let her know. "This ponytail makes you look like a child."

She glares at me. "Oh, so you get to decide my hair style, too?"

We fixate on each other, and I know that the smug smile on my face does nothing to ease her anger. If anything, it only makes it worse.

"Glad to see you're still talking to me," I say. "I’ve missed that beautiful voice."

She snorts. "You're fucking unbelievable."

"Thank you."

"That wasn't a compliment, Sir."

There’s an undertone of disgust when she spits out the words, but the fact that she's still calling me Sir makes me smile.

"I decided to take it as one; that's all that matters."

She growls angrily and defiantly crosses her arms in front of her chest, choosing to divert her attention back to the window.

"Why do I even have to meet these people?" she asks without looking at me. "Is this just to humiliate me even further?"

"I don't know why you would say that," I reply. "You're meeting with my closest staff members and associates, people who we will be working with very closely once the campaigning starts. You need to get to know them, and they have to get to know you."

"You're going through a lot of trouble to win this seat," she says. "I still don't understand why you need me for this. Aren't there lots of single men in Congress - or in politics in general?"

"Maybe," I say. "But those men aren't me. I can't get away with the same things others can."

"Why not?"

She's looking at me now, her eyes questioning, searching for the answer.

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