Page 43 of Filthy Jealous Heir, Part Two

Not even for a liar like Olivia Beckworth.

I’m nothing.

No one.

And this town would be better off without me. Just like Oak pointed out.

I think of her, of the words she said to me before we were interrupted. They were everything I wanted to hear. My entire fucking purpose for coming back here. I wanted her to fall, and I wanted to watch her fucking pay for the lies she’d been covering up. For the pain she caused, for the destruction.

I should be fucking delighted that all my hard work has paid off. That despite being a royal fucking cunt to her, she’s still blinded enough by my cock and the few orgasms I’ve gifted her to fall for it.

She claims not to be anything like the rest of the girls at All Hallows’. But one taste of an Heir’s cock and she’s fallen into the same bullshit trap as them.

Dick blind.

I can’t help but smirk as I think about it being my dick she’s drunk on.

Reaching down, I tug at my trousers as the memory of being buried deep inside her only minutes before the game earlier comes back to me.

Fuck. She might have been nothing more than a game to me. But she was fun.

More fun than she probably should have been.

With her cunt squeezing me so tight I practically saw fucking stars, it was easy to forget all the reasons I hated her.

The ping of my phone startles me a beat before a message pops up on my screen.

Dad: Great game tonight, Son. Proud of you.

I scoff at that. His messages have been coming more frequently this week.

Apparently, I should have forgotten by now that he was the one who sent me away like a stray dog that he no longer wanted sniffing around his new life.

Betrayal rips through me once again. He promised me time and time again that the second he found a way to get out, he’d take me with him. That we’d start over together. That he’d sever the ties I had to this place, to Abigail, to Mum.

But he did none of that. Just when I thought we were embarking on what was going to be a new chapter of our lives, he ripped the rug from beneath me and sent me back here like he never made any of those promises.

Like he didn’t even fucking care.

Anger surges through me once more when another message comes through.

I expect to find his name there again, begging me to talk to him, to visit. But to my surprise, when my eyes drop, I find Olivia wanting to extend her torture for some fucking bizarre reason.

Olivia: We need to talk.

“What the actual fuck is wrong with you?” I scoff, taking a turning too fast and almost putting my car into the ditch.

Ignoring her, I turn my music up in the hope it’ll help ease some of the tension in my shoulders and the ache of my jaw from Oak’s less-than-gentle punch.

He wanted more. I could see his need for blood shining bright in his eyes. I bet he’s fucking gutted the others held him back, stopping him from taking what he really wanted.

Olivia: Reese, please…

“I know I’m good, but fuck,” I murmur to myself. “You’re giving Darcie a run for her money here, Liv.”

I shake my head, both loving and hating that she’s playing right into my hands.

I thought she might pose at least a bit of a challenge. I guess I should have seen it coming after I got between her legs so easily on initiation night.

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