Page 30 of Contract of a Billionaire
Serene. Happy. Beautiful.
So different from me. Filthy. Twisted. Ugly.
And still, I couldn’t resist her. I lost all control and spilled my seed inside her. I didn’t fucking regret it. My only regret was that she was on birth control. I wanted to tie her to me.
I had to bind her to me before she found out everything. All the twisted history that tainted me. If she learned what I had done, she’d despise me. She wanted to save the world; I fucking ruined it.
It was exactly the reason I put a marriage contract in place with her grandparents. It was my backup plan in case she rejected me. Yes, it turned out I was a selfish prick like my bastard father. But the thought of losing this was un-fucking-bearable.
If she knew what I had done, she would reject me.
Something in my chest twisted at the thought of losing Autumn. Or maybe it was at the thought of forcing her to do something and seeing pain in her eyes.
I never wanted to be the reason to see her hazel greens turn brown.
For the past four years, I kept all college boys and men in California away from Autumn. As my friends liked to point out, it was a tad bit overboard. So fucking what. They’d done the same if not worse for their women. Cassio was plotting how to get his woman. Luciano forced his woman to marry him in his plot to avenge his mother and sister. The Nikolaev men were full blown stalking their women and those women didn’t even know it. Well, except for Sasha. Whatever woman that psychopath put on his radar, I felt sorry for her.
We cheat, steal, and kill for what we want.
And then there was the fact that I fucking hated when people looked at what’s mine, never mind dared to touch it.
It was the reason I was now back at Fleur’s bar, right after I dropped Autumn home.
In the early morning hours, before the sun was even up, we both dressed in silence, and true to my word, I kept her panties. She protested a bit, but then caved in after I lowered myself down onto my knees and ate her pussy, her fingers gripping my hair like she was scared I’d stop.
She had no fucking idea it took only one time for me to become addicted to her.
I stared at the ancient building of Fleur’s bar. On the outside, it looked old as dirt. On the inside, all the latest upgrades had been made.
Fleur and I had an agreement. I financed fifty percent of her business, but I got to use her bunker in the basement. It was one of the kind, used in 1642 by merchants to smuggle their goods.
Upgraded use, torture chamber. It made it a convenient way to dump a body too.
Fleur understood the need for it. She had seen firsthand the various shades of gray required to survive in this world. She was a victim once. The legal system couldn’t save her. It required a gray motherfucker like me to finally do that.
But my sins still remained. There’d be no washing those away.
True to my word, the fucker who dared touch my woman lost his fingers. He was lucky I didn’t finish him off. But that was about to change. This world would be a better place without him.
The door closed behind me with a quiet click.
In the early hours of the morning, before the sun even came up, the soft click sounded like a gunshot. The fucker jumped in his seat even with the chains keeping him hostage and his palms pressed on his knees.
His eyes shot my way, fear clear on his face. He’d been here since last night.
My cold gaze swept over him. Dirty and now bloody muscle shirt, no fucking muscles. Balding head.
His left hand was missing fingers and they laid on the ground, smeared with blood and dirt. There was no saving them. His blanched face held fear. Not enough fear.
Last night I had only gotten started. I decided to have a background check ran on the fucker before I let him go, and it turned out, this fucker liked to force himself on little girls. So letting him go was no longer an option.
Acid burned in my blood at the thought of his filthy hands on Autumn, even for a fraction of a moment.
“Do you know why you’re here?” I asked, my tone cold and my lip curled with disdain.
I pulled the blade out of my pocket and the fucker’s eyes bulged with terror. He started to wheeze, gasping for air.
“Please, please, no more,” he begged.
