Page 15 of Cruel Fate

The rest of the night flies by in a haze of talk, laughter, and booze, and I’m floating on an alcoholic cloud by the time we leave the club.

A limo pulls up to the curb, and a driver opens the door and waits, staring into space, as Ash possessively kisses Zarah goodbye. The paparazzi are still taking pictures of the club guests as they exit the building, these more interesting since not too many leave sober.

The limousine’s taillights blend in with the other traffic, and in its place, an identical limo, black and sleek, parks at the curband the same driver who brought us here helps Zarah into the back. She sighs and sags into the seat, resting her head against the window. She’s not as talkative, and her face is pale.

Zane’s different, too. Aloof. He doesn’t cuddle me like he did on the way to the club.

I don’t expect the limo to bring me home, and Zarah tugs on my hand in front of Maddox Industries confirming my suspicions. In a wave of disappointment, I watch the car glide smoothly away from the curb. I’m used to the train but riding it home at three in the morning will be a pain in the ass. Not to mention unsafe.

I bristle. Rich people just don’t get it.

“I had a nice night. Thank you so much,” I say to start the goodbyes, and Zane flinches. He can hear it in my tone, what kind of goodbye I’m saying, but it’s better this way. I stare down the street. I better get walking.

Zane tucks his hands into his pockets, tired and sad, swaying on his feet. I want to pull him to me, but Ash’s warnings ring loud in my ears. There’s no way I can prove I’m not after Zarah and Zane’s money. I’m out of my league, swimming with sharks.

Zarah nudges me toward the building. “Sleep over tonight. Zane will bring you home in the morning, after breakfast.”

She had this planned all along.

Zane brightens and tenses, waiting for my answer. It wasn’t until Ash told me I couldn’t be friends with the Maddoxes that it occurred to me how badly I want to be. Zane will talk to Ash, tell him I’m not out to use anyone.

Zarah blinks her dark brown eyes, and Zane scuffs the sidewalk with the toe of his shoe.

I’m powerless to resist.

“Yes.”

CHAPTER SIX

Zane

The girls need longer than half an hour to get ready for bed: wiping off makeup, combing out their hair, and brushing their teeth. I do the same, undress, change into pajamas, and their tired giggles float to me down the hall.

I lie in my bedroom and doze. When I rouse myself, the penthouse is quiet, and it’s five in the morning.

Zarah didn’t tell me she was going to ask Stella to spend the night, but I’m glad she did. It gives me a sense of peace she’s under our roof.

I think of how she comforted me on the terrace. I wanted her, but she’s too good to be fucked like that. Maybe she wouldn’t have let me, anyway. I have to remember she’s only Zarah’s age, but she seems older. I need to go slow. She could be a virgin. Her first time shouldn’t be with her back pushed against a cold brick wall.

My cock is hard and throbbing, and I stroke myself, my erection surging beneath my palm. Picturing Stella’s pussy spread open, dripping wet, pushing my fingers into her while shemoans my name, I make myself come. I want her, but the timing needs to be right or after what she’s seen, she’ll feel like I’m using her for sex.

I’m always afraid people want to get close to me for money, or power, or privilege, but if I keep using women for short-term gratification, people will start to think of me how I think about myself. An asshole who doesn’t respect women. A worthless idiot who can’t competently run a company after his father’s death.

That’s not me.

Zarah and I may have billions of dollars behind our last name, but I’m lonely like any other human being, and after I clean off my cock and wash my hands, I pull on a pair of clean boxers and silently pad down the hallway to Stella’s room. I overheard them talking—Zarah put her in the guest bedroom next to hers.

Stella left the window curtains open, and the city lights brighten the room. She lays in bed wearing one of my sister’s nightgowns. Her blonde curls are spread across a huge pillow, and her breasts rise and fall with her deep breathing.

Nothing feels better than looking at her, nothing in these past six months has soothed the hurt. I still have a long way to go, maybe my whole life to reconcile my parents’ sudden deaths, but I can’t do it without her.

Her wit and wisdom, her intelligence, she’ll be a rock I can lean on...if she’ll have me.

“Stella,” I whisper.

She cracks her eyes open. “Zane. Are you okay?”

I shake my head. My throat burns. I am so tired.

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