Page 53 of 10 Days to Ruin

Not the way her blouse strained over her breasts. Not the curve of her hip as she straddled me. Not the?—

Fuckyet again.

I slam the laptop shut again. It’s no use. I can’t think. Can’t focus. All I can see is her, perched on my desk like a queen on her throne, her eyes mocking me from behind those ridiculous glasses.

Ridiculous, yes. And yet… devastatingly effective.

Women have thrown themselves at me all my life. Models. Actresses. Heiresses. They’ve offered me everything—their bodies, their fortunes, their souls. But none of them have ever made me feel like this. LikeI’mthe one being hunted. LikeI’mthe prey.

It’s infuriating. It’s exhilarating.

It’s very, very dangerous.

I pace the room, my mind racing. What is she playing? What does she want? Doessheeven know?

One thing’s for certain:Iknow. I know what I want and what I’m playing for. I’ve known since the day my father wound that barbed wire around my neck and kept it there until the scar had set deep into my skin.

I have a business to run. An empire to protect.

And, apparently, a bride to tame.

Yes.Tame. That’s the right word. She thinks she can control me. Thinks she can manipulate me with her games, her teasing.

I snarl, kicking my chair so it goes spinning across the room and thumps into the far wall. She’s wrong. Dead wrong.

I’m the one in control here. I’m the one who calls the shots.

And I will not be played.

18

ARIEL

I did it.

The elevator ride up to my apartment feels infinite. My knees won’t stop shaking. My skin hums. My breath comes in shallow bursts, like I just sprinted up ten flights instead of standing still in an airless box.

By the time I fumble my keys into the lock, my thighs are slick with rampant, ungodly horniness and my pulse is an electric current under my skin.

But Ididit.

I won.

I finally get my door open, lunge inside, and throw it closed behind me like Sasha might be following behind me, ready to make good on my teasing. My purse and keys go clattering to the floor as I sink down to a seat, back to the floor, torn between laughing and screaming. The grin spreading across my face is downright goofy, but I can’t stop it. I wouldn’t even if I could.

“You’re crazy,” I whisper to myself. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

My phone starts tap-dancing in my purse. I pull it out to find Gina triple-messaging me.

GINA:So?

GINA:… So??????

GINA:SO??!?!?!?! Did you do it?!

Good question. Did I? Did I just waltz into Sasha’s office, dressed like a librarian porn star, in full view of his coworkers, and proceed to blue ball him until the veins stood out on his forehead like cables on the Brooklyn Bridge?

Yes, as a matter of fact, I did.

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