Page 22 of My Ruthless Husband

Jessica’s friend with pink highlights and nose piercings stares at me while popping her chewing gum. “You’re such a goody two shoes.”

“What the hell, Sasha?” Jessica throws a pillow at her.

Easily dogging it, she glances at Jessica with a bored expression. “What? Isn’t it the truth?” She turns her eyes to me. “Never went to any parties or stayed out past curfew. Hell, I bet you’re still a virgin.”

I stiffen. The other girl gasps out loud while Jessica pushes to her feet. “Seriously, Sasha. Cut it out.”

“I was just saying that she needs to chill and get out more. You know, to live.” The last part is said while giving me a pointed look.

A jolt of distress hits my stomach. Yes, I kept to myself the past two years. Yes, I am a bookworm. Boring with a pretty face. And yes, I am a twenty-year-old virgin. I’m going to turn twenty-one in six months and I don’t see myself losing my virginity any time sooner. Is that so bad?

I struggle with connecting to new people. Regardless being fluent in multiple languages, I am an introvert. I talk to others when necessary. It’s because I’m designed this way. I am yet to find someone who could accept me as I am. And not force me to do things in the name of friendship. Though, Sasha’s words hurt, explaining myself to a stranger is a waste of time.

There’s a knock on the door and I turn to find Derek, dad’s security chief. He is wearing a navy suit. His eyes are hiding behind black shades.

“Ms. Gibson.” He inclines his head.

“Derek,” I say warmly, smiling as I step aside to let him in.

My eyes back to the girls. “Hope you all have a pleasant summer.” Giving them a last smile, I walk out.

But as I turn to leave, two more guards appear in the doorway, their eyes scanning the room before coming to rest on the stacks of boxes. My roommate’s eyes widen in surprise, and her friends stare, open-mouthed.

Nobody here knows that I’m Christopher Gibson's daughter. I’ve worked hard to keep it that way.

Within minutes, I am seated in the back of the SUV. Shaking my head at the sight of two more cars lining behind me. I pull out my cell phone and dial Dad. He picks up on the third ring.

“Hello, sweet pea. Are you on your way?”

I melt hearing my nickname. “I am. But dad… I told you not to send the guards.”

“You think I’m going to let you do the heavy lifting?”

“Why send so many then?”

“Because it saves time.”

“Ever the strategist.” I smile.

“That I am. Come home soon. I miss you, sweet pea.”

“I miss you too, dad. So much.”

“I am officially on leave starting today. We are going on a vacation.”

Sometimes I wonder if he still blames himself for abandoning me on my birthdays when he was grieving mom. He has spent his every waking day making it up to me ever since. I only hope he knows that I’ve long forgotten those empty days and nights. He should know that he doesn’t have to set aside his work just because I’m coming home.

“Dad, you don’t need to—”

“Ah, but I do,” he replies. “I’ve missed my daughter, and I’m not about to let work get in the way. Besides, you stood me up over spring break. I’m collecting on that rain check.”

“Okay. Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Really?”

“Yes. In fact, you’re not coming home. You’re heading straight to the airport.”

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