Page 82 of Vengeful Lies

This guy is fucking crazy being turned on by this.

“Got it. Touch something of yours, and you kill me.” I can tell he’s smirking as he opens the door for me.

He releases me, and I sink into the car that I’ve gotten all too used to. I’ve fallen into a steady rhythm with this man, but the thought of living with him terrifies me. Because I just don’t know for how much longer I can bury the glaring reality that’s right in front of my face.

I’m falling for Eli Monti; his trap is the last one I should ensnare myself in.

When Eli slides into the car, he makes an obvious adjustment at his crotch as he puts his dark shades on. With an arrogant smile, he looks at me and asks, “Can we still fuck when we get back?”

My lips twitch, and I don’t know if I want to strangle him or laugh. I think it’s both.

This man is insufferable, and so I make an effort to ignore him.

We most definitely willnotbe fucking.

CHAPTER 43

Jewel

The moment we step into his apartment, and I see my things, he’s smart enough to head straight into the kitchen, pour a glass of champagne, and quickly bring it out to me.

“I told them to let you unpack,” he says, offering me the glass.

I take the glass and glare at him as I sip it, careful not to drink it all in one go because somehow I end up in situations that I don’t particularly care for when I drink too much.

“I would ask if you already know where my room is, but we both know you do. And since you think the bed is so comfy already, we shouldn’t run into any issues. I’ve cleared out a few drawers, and one side of the closet is yours,” he tells me as he heads toward his bedroom. “I’m going for a shower; feel free to join me.”

Join him?I snort at the arrogance after we were literally fighting only an hour ago. I sober at the thought. Why am I even bickering with him? I can’t even grasp onto what’s real anymore. If Eli is into something dangerous, I’m certain it’s mental fuckery. And he’s good at it.

I stare at the stack of boxes, one of them containing his expensive watches. I smirk at that. But in total, there are only sixboxes. It’s a depressing thought to know I own so little. I could literally buy a house or maybe even a private island, yet I’m always ready to pack and move at the drop of a hat to the next place. For the next thrill and hit. But for how long?

I take a sip of the champagne, still not enjoying its taste.

Where would I move to after this? After New York?

A very dark notion of loneliness sinks in, and I try to clear my throat as if that’s what’s lodging the heavy weight in my heart.

Loneliness. What an interesting concept. I’ve worn it as a badge of honor up until this point. If I make it out alive after this situation with Eli, how will I move on?

I close my eyes, realizing my error. I’ve already let this asshole get under my skin. But I’m not foolish enough to let myself cling to a notion of hope. Hope for what? A happy family? Of killing joyfully together? Of family dinners with his family and having a place to call home? I’d given up on all of those things the moment my father died, and I took my first shot blowing out someone’s brains. I don’t deserve any of that. I made sure of it.

But never in my life did I think I’d want those things.

Never have I allowed myself to selfishly live amidst the real world instead of remaining a phantom on a lonely path.

I mean, I thought I’d been living. But I hadn’t even been drunk until the other day. I don’t have friends with whom to celebrate achievements. Well, maybe Sage, but I still keep her at arm’s length, so it’s easy for me to get up and leave at any given moment. Is that really living?

I can’t remember the last time my brain just shut off, and I enjoyed myself. It was definitely beforehim. I want to argue that I still hate the man, but deep down, I know the truth. The question is whether I’m willing to die for it.

And yet, I finish the glass of champagne and start to undress, leaving only my heels on as I head toward the shower.

The water is already running, and when I step into the bedroom, I’m not surprised to see the bathroom door open, the invitation obvious.

Presumptuous asshole.

I walk in, slipping out of my heels as he opens the shower door expectantly. He flashes that arrogant smirk that I want to slap off his face as much as I want to kiss it. His cock is hard, and his callused hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me under the water with him.

I’m still on my period, but Eli doesn’t care about that. In fact, he fucking loves it.

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