Page 131 of Awakened By a Billionaire

I let out a breath. “Anyway, she’s not a Catholic, and she’s living in the now.”

“Are you sure she was a virgin?”

“Have you ever been with one?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Nope. I’ve always gone for older women. I like the experienced ones, myself.”

“Then, I’m telling you, there’s no way she faked that. There was fucking blood and well…” How could I tell him she was so tight that my dick had yet to recover from that rare sensation?

“Forgive her. I mean, we’ve had more blow jobs than Christmas roasts.”

My mouth curved for the first time in weeks. “Speak for yourself. But sure, I’ve had a few.”

None as fucking good as Theadora’s lips.

“It’s also that she took the money. That preys on me. It shouldn’t, seeing that she needs it and she’s had a rough life.”

“She left because she didn’t want you to see the photos. That makes sense. That, in my opinion, is a dignified response.”

“But what about the money?”

He shrugged. “I would have taken it. Are you in love with her?”

I raked through my hair, which kept falling over my forehead, and nodded. “I can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about her. I was her fucking first.”

He nodded slowly with a sad smile. “That’s a big thing for you. You swore black and blue you wouldn’t have a relationship until you’d gotten your life together.”

“Yeah, well, I didn’t expect to meet Theadora, did I?”

“I’d find out if that’s her in the photos. And if it is, I’d get over it. It’s a double standard, man. You fucked around. It was before she met you too.”

He was right. But it still felt like our relationship had been desecrated.

I hugged him and left for London.

Club Purr looked different in the harsh light of day. After trying a few different routes, it took me some time to find the place where I’d rescued Theadora. I found myself walking up and down different routes, until I finally spotted the club tucked away in a dead-end alley.

I rang a buzzer on the metal door, and after a few minutes a “Can I help you?” responded in a heavy Eastern European accent.

I lied about wanting to buy a virgin, and she let me in.

“Normally, this is done by invite only.” She eyed my Rolex, a birthday gift from my grandfather.

“I was passing by, and I recalled hearing about it from Reynard Crisp,” I bullshitted.

Her plucked eyebrow moved up slightly. She’d obviously recognised the name. “Won’t you come in.” She let me pass, and I followed her to a bar that smelt of stale cigars, alcohol, and aftershave.

“Can I offer you a drink?”

“Just a shot of whisky,” I said.

She passed me a glass and then sat next to me on a bar stool.

“As you can see, we have a stage here where the girls parade.” She pointed.

I felt sick, knowing that Theadora had been part of this sleazy establishment. I remembered her story well, about her accepting the job as a waitress out of desperation.

“Look, I’m not going to beat around the bush. I’m not here to buy a virgin, I’m here about these.” I took the envelope out of my pocket and showed her the pictures.

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