Page 15 of The Billionaire's Secret
"Thought you quit."
"Don't fucking nag me, man."
He shoots me a sideways glance, then pulls out a cigarette. He leans forward, grabs the lighter from the dash and lights it up. He blows out smoke, before placing it between my lips. I draw in a puff, then another.
"So, her marriage is—?" he prompts.
I blow out a breath. "Couldn't find any evidence of it being legal."
Weston turns to me, "You mean...?"
I hold up my hand, "I don't think it's genuine."
"Maybe it's wishful thinking?" He drums his fingers on his thigh. "You sure that you aren't splitting straws."
And isn't that the fucking truth? Why the hell can't I simply walk away from her?
"We'll find out soon enough." I draw in a breath. "For now the scene is set."
"Scene?" He glowers at me. "Don't push it, man. You're already w-a-a-y too involved with this woman."
"Involved?" I laugh. "You know how much I love riddles. It's been a long time since I’ve found one that challenged me."
"Be careful, Saint." He snickers, "Some puzzles are best left unsolved."
4
What is more useful when it is broken?
Answer: An egg
Three weeks later
Victoria
"Am I intruding?" I stare across the office of the executive level of 7A investments. This is it. I couldn't put it off anymore. I have nowhere else to go in this city. After Adam's death, I'd moved out of the hotel and into a studio in Hackney.
I am playing the role the Mafia has demanded of me, but the resources I have to rely on are meagre—what I have left over from the job I'd started after graduating from UCLA. A month into it, I got the call that Nina had been kidnapped, and my entire life had changed.
"You’re already here." Saint glares back. "May as well come all the way in." He drags his gaze down to my chest. A flush blooms on my cheeks.
I haven't seen him since that encounter in the limo, but his every word, the expression on his face as he'd come, the way he'd massaged his cum into my skin, marking me as his... I remember every single detail. I had masturbated every night to the image of his orgasm; and I had not come. Damn him, but I couldn't let myself climax.
It wasn't for trying, honestly, but every time I came close to the edge, I lost courage, I couldn't see it through. I felt bereft. Rudderless. Needing, wanting, searching for something...someone to lead me. To take control. Damn the man, I don't need his permission to come. I don't.
His perusal shifts to my belly, my core. Moisture pools in my center. Sweat beads my palm. The invisible connection between us crackles, tightens further. My scalp tingles. The hair on my neck rises. Is the chemistry between us more potent than I remember?
My head spins.
"Victoria, are you okay?" Summer asks from across the room.
I open my mouth to answer when a sound reaches me. I glance down to find a puppy sniffing at my ankles. Huh? Why hadn't I noticed the little fella earlier? He whines, plonks himself down on his haunches and looks up at me with melting eyes. My heart squeezes. A pressure builds at my temples. Jesus, what is wrong with me?
I bend, pet him. He licks my fingers and warmth travels up my arm.
He turns, runs to his bed, and settles there with his chew toy.
He's so cute, just a baby. A heaviness grips my chest. If only I had someone to call my own. A pet? A child? The emptiness inside of me stutters, rolls into itself, grows larger, broader, swells inside, taking on a physical shape. The visceral need to procreate is a tangible thing that claws at me, shoves out at me, pushes me to draw in a sharp breath. Oh my god, what's happening to me?
