Chapter 3
A few days earlier
Lord, Commander, King, Leader, even God, I've worn every one of those titles for my people, but the one that defines me best is loner . Maybe it’s strange to name a man who's always surrounded by crowds loner , but it's a trait that has defined me for too long to ever be changed.
God of War, exiled to redeem myself in this realm. I was always a leader. I was born that way and never mistook my own agenda for the will of my subjects. They exist to serve me, never the other way around. The men that would kill for me, or even get killed for me, the deceivers that would poison any innocent ears with my words, and the women that crumble at my feet—all destined to please me, the same way I'm destined for greatness.
They say I'm human, or at least that's what they like to believe I am, to keep the nightmares from flooding their minds and haunting their sleep. I'm not even sure if they're mistaken or not at this point, but the untainted vine of ancestral evil that's so deeply rooted inside of me always reminds me of where I came from.
I bear a curse—like a plague that won't let me find peace, leaving me doomed to live a life that keeps repeating itself. Many might laugh after learning of my burden, but like all gifts the Devil offers, there's a catch. I'm here to set a balance. To keep the exact equilibrium I broke, in what feels like many lifetimes ago.
I'm here to decide how the forces of evil are allowed to manifest themselves in the part of the world that I rule, and where exactly a line should be drawn. It is a task I can only fulfill as a leader; therefore everyone here answers to me. I control everything, from the worms crawling on the ground to the sun in the sky.
Things will stay that way for as long as I breathe. I'm condemned to never allow history to repeat itself again. And in a world with so many vicious intentions, it's a much more challenging task than one could ever imagine. I need to keep villainy in equilibrium while that's the very essence that defines me—pure evil.
Trying to maintain the balance has also turned me into a collector. I gather things, some of great value while others as cheap as the dirt that settles in the desert, yet they all hold a special attribute—they can channel powers beyond any imagination. It's one of these objects that made me cancel all my plans for today and have my best men track Nick Wells down and bring him to me.
Nothing in this man's resume could have ever gotten him on my usual hiring list, and I give jobs to pretty much any piece of lowlife that comes my way. I find them easier to dispose of if necessary. No one misses their kind. They're like the toilet paper you use to wipe your ass — used and discarded.
Yet, something brought his name to my attention. One of my informants told me that this Nick guy appeared interested in a certain job opportunity that I had to offer. I wouldn’t normally consider him, but my informant overheard Nick bragging in a bar about working with Michael. Well, that's a name I had heard of, and even if it didn't have a last name attached, he needed no introduction. He was the best cat burglar out there.
One of my brothers hired him for a job several years ago and the guy breached the unbreachable to get us what we were after.
Last year, I personally sent my men to bring Michael to me, but they only returned with the news of his death. I don't even know who regretted it more—me or the bastard whose mansion I had to burn to the ground to get my artifact.
It was a regrettable incident—for the ones directly involved, that is. For me, it was more like a sport, a method of entertainment to pass the time. And given I'm facing eternity, I'll be in need of plenty of that.
Still, it disturbs the balance, and unintentionally, also any sort of equilibrium I might find in my life.
Take a soul, and you lose a part of your own. My father's twisted sense of humor blessed my brothers and me with yet another curse. As if we weren't already damned enough. I've always considered that he’d done it because we were the only ones strong enough to bear it, or maybe it was his way of reassuring himself that we would always remain on his side. Whatever it was, I wasn't going to risk starting a war for what I could easily settle with just the right set of skills.
This is where Nick came into the picture.
Well, not Nick exactly. The man is as useless as a mollusk, but he knows someone who might turn out to be highly valuable to me—Michael's sister. Nick claims she is as skilled as her brother was. It's almost impossible to believe anything this man says, but if it's true, she might be a priceless asset to me.
There’s a certain artifact that I need. A silver hand mirror with African rubies set into its handle—a beautiful accessory to some, and the portal that connects the realms of the living and the dead to others.
The mirror is locked in one of the most sophisticated safes right here in Vegas. Attempting to retrieve it directly would start an unprecedented war. I might have supreme power around here, but things work differently in this city. This is where only the big sharks come to play. The place where you can only win by following the most important rule of the game—don't lose ground.
Negotiation was pointless when it came to this artifact, not that I'm ever good at such things. In fact, my skills are so awful that I always end up holding someone's head in my hands—literally. That was exactly the part I was trying to avoid. I've had some slip-ups in the past that made my own people run for their lives, and I'm not going to wait for a century or two to get myself another decent batch of servants.
Taking that into consideration, I’m determined to make an offer to Nick no man could refuse—two million dollars for the job, plus paid expenses.
I knew his type all too well. He would sell his own mother for the right sum and what I was bringing to the table exceeded his wildest expectations.
The deal was settled from the start with no room for negotiation. Nick’s only condition was to give him a few days to tie up some loose ends in Elko City. After that, I expect both him and Michael’s sister in Vegas to start working on our project. I needed things done ASAP before the idiot who owned the artifact decided to bring some extra friends from another realm here to pay humanity a visit.
Nick's request for a few days before we began, fit right into my agenda. I didn't get this far without learning everything possible about the people I interact with, especially someone whom I'll let orchestrate such an important plan.
Rule number one: never underestimate your enemy. And even if he wasn't on my list of known enemies, I needed to decide that for myself first. I know his kind. He would sell me in a heartbeat, no matter the circumstances, the same way I would kill him without even blinking. But it isn't him I need to decipher. It's the girl—Michael's sister, Serena.
I need to know where she stands in the greater scheme.
Something in Nick’s story doesn’t add up. She's too low-profile, even for a cat burglar. I ran a background check of my own. Turned out the idiot was telling the truth—people did seem to know her from when she was working with Michael. Still, no recent news of any jobs. At least, that was the brief report my informant gave me. The rest was sitting on my coffee table in a file I hadn’t yet opened.
My life doesn’t revolve around this heist. There always seems to be someone screwing things around. I have rules for everything; it's just that people don't seem to follow them.
That's exactly what happened today. It had come to my attention that Sergio, the man I allowed to oversee the narcotic distribution within my city, was considering making some extra profit on his own. Therefore, he increased the quantities we agreed on, without letting me in on the development of things. A very very poor decision on his part.
It isn't even about me losing money. It’s about the fucking imbalance he created. And I hate it when things don't go my way!
His I'm sorry! or the I'll never do it again! ricocheted off deaf ears. I never have the time or the patience to deal with such things. A price needs to be paid for his betrayal. It's the only way these bastards ever learn. He should call himself lucky that I’d decided I would have one of his hands, not his life.
He'll come to his senses in a few days. They always do, considering the alternative I offer—death.
That being a wrap for today, I head back to my penthouse to find myself something more entertaining to pass the time, not that I had too much success with that lately. I constantly feel like I’m sinking so deep into a routine that not even the Vegas nightlife can pull me out.
I holler at my maid to bring me a glass of whiskey, with the hope it will ease the pulsing sensation in my temples. I nearly forget about the file on my coffee table until the maid almost spills the whiskey on the stack of papers lying there.
“I'm so sorry,” she tries apologizing while I grab the file and shake off the few drops of whiskey that landed on its cover. Almost ignoring what I was doing, I pick up on the startled tone coating her words. People's fear does something to me, excites me. It acts like a booster, igniting an urge to exploit that feeling.
Still, I haven't gone fucking mad. I won't test the pure forces of evil on my maid, especially since she's the only one who’s dared to stick around for so long. But I do get that extra kick I need to get back on track, and since Serena's file is in my hands, I'll start with that.
I don't even get to open it before a few pictures fall face-down on my lap.
The idiot who made the file must've not heard of tape. I’m surrounded by incompetents.
That thought quickly evaporates as I get my hand on the pictures. Premonitions aren’t something I usually experience. Let's just say it's not one of my gifts, but the moment I pick up the photos an unprecedented chill runs down my spine. The runes have been cast, and the course of life itself seems to have taken an unexpected turn.
I don’t linger before I look at the pictures.
Nothing out of the ordinary about the first one. Nick is kissing someone, likely Serena, in a parking lot. I assumed she was his girlfriend, but didn’t bother to question him about it when we met. It just didn’t seem relevant at the time.
I can't really see her face since she's obscured by one of the cars, but as I flip another picture I'm fucking thunderstruck. She's fuming mad in this one and I instantly decide I like her fuming mad . Her thick lips, almost contorted by rage, her disheveled sun-kissed blonde hair, and her baby blue eyes narrowed in fury, with cheekbones arched tightly as if she’s about to spit fire—she suddenly becomes my new source of entertainment. I can't help but feel a rush of excitement as I think about the ways I could tame that fiery attitude of hers.
I wonder what got her so mad. It's probably her asshat of a boyfriend. The man is trouble, yet not in the way I am. I can be heaven or hell to anyone I choose, while people like him are just parasites. They feast on whatever you have best, then leave you out to die while they move on to their next victim.
That's not going to happen to her.
I am her new God. I decide her fate, and extracting Nick from its course has suddenly become a priority. And I'm only one phone call away from making that happen. “That file I asked for, Nick Wells.”
“It's not complete yet, but I can bring you what I have for now,” my informant cuts in, desperate to fill me in on whatever information he has up to now.
“Bring it. And for the rest, I want the file as thick as a fucking phonebook. I want to know what he eats, what he drinks, where he goes, where and who he sleeps with. Everything from his shoe size to his dental record. And I want it done yesterday.” I don't expect him to confirm that he understood. I wasn't going to repeat myself anyway and he is perfectly aware of that.
Putting the phone down, I flip to another picture, and from the looks of it, my Serena is working in a gas station. Again, something doesn't add up. How does a woman like that work there?
Picking up the file, I confirm it’s true. She’s a cashier there. The chances are Nick also has something to do with this.
In less than two minutes, I ended up despising the guy, even if at this moment he is the perfect solution to a lot of my problems.
My impatient nature drives me to flip to another picture. This one is a little blurred but reveals more of her body. Now that's definitely something I need to see up close. Really, really up close.
Funny how quickly she raised that kind of reaction out of me. The list of beautiful women that had been through my bed is ridiculously long, maybe some even more beautiful than her. Still, she has that something that sends wild electric impulses racing through my heart. I haven't felt anything close to that for as long as I can remember, and that’s a very fucking long time.
Maybe I'm just mad. I've always been mad one way or another, but I feel this has the potential to draw a whole new level of darkness out of me. I’m not sure if I should dread it or welcome it. But I do know I want to live it.
I throw a few more pictures back on the coffee table like I'm scrolling through them to get to the right one. And there it is! The broad smile I need to see only when I walk into the room, the cyan blue eyes that will burn with desire as soon as we would meet, and that fucking long sandy hair... oh, I need to get my hands wrapped around it so badly that I'm one step away from ditching everything to just go and claim her as mine.
Rationally, I know I’d never actually do that. I'm a predator and this is turning out to be the best game I’ve had in a very long time.
Besides, I wouldn't want to rush and ruin the fun. I don't fit into the considerate stereotype, I’m more like the type who enslaves people to do his bidding. That might tend to end my enjoyment sooner than I’d normally want. I can only hope she’s smart enough to understand that from the start.
It's decided. I need to see her in person. I'm far too intrigued to just stand by and receive more lifeless photos.
Tucking two of my guns inside my jacket, I leave for Elko with one thought in mind—to see who she really is.
It's a fucking long drive there. So long that I start losing some of my enthusiasm on the way. Maybe it's the desert, or maybe I've rushed to cling onto something that had the potential to pull me out of the rut I've been sinking into lately. I’m beginning to feel so dead I could soon be mistaken for a corpse. Maybe this was meant to be my awakening.
She's just a pretty piece of ass.
I try to convince myself, taking another look at the picture of her that sits on the passenger seat. I brought the file along in case I needed more information on where to find her—or so I told myself. I have an elephant's memory. All info about her is already imprinted deep within my brain by now.
I arrive in Elko a little after midnight. That perfectly agrees with my plans. According to her schedule, she should be at work by now. That will give me a chance to study her closely. Not that cashing in gas bills has anything to do with the tasks I need her for, but seeing her in her normal environment helps me build her profile.
I leave my car down the street. We might still be in Nevada, but this place is definitely not Vegas. I'm not usually the kind that easily blends in and driving a Lamborghini Urus won't help my case.
Taking every dark path I can find, I finally end up at her gas station. It looks like I have it easy for me tonight. The CCTV is so outdated that I don't even have to keep away from cameras. I'll just use a signal disturber to inactivate them for the duration of my stay .
This is not how I usually spend my Friday nights, but there's a first for everything. Even if I'm not a novice at getting information on the people I interact with, this mission has a very different impact on me.
Still, convinced that my imagination is playing tricks on me and I'm starting to see things where they're not, I walk to the front of the gas station. Not all the lights are working outside, so it's easy for me to find a secluded corner where I can observe her.
It turns out I was right to reconsider my rushed excitement back in the car. From this distance, she looks almost common. The polo shirt she has on along with the ponytail definitely makes her blend into the crowd of nobodies.
I’ve set myself up for nothing, must be the boredom that got me this wrapped up about her.
Nevertheless, I decide to stay. I am on a mission, and she still is a target of undeniable value—if what Nick said turns out to be true and she’s as skilled as he claims.
For his own sake, it better be.
My eyes never leave her, and I'm just about to curse myself for coming all the way here and not naming someone else for this task. I'll be bored to death by the morning.
Still, something keeps me from taking my next breath without watching her. Little do I know that I'm just about to find what that something is.
Bored from sitting on the chair and scrolling through her phone, she moves out from behind the counter and walks to the magazine rack that's placed straight in front of the gas station’s window, just inches away from me. She's too busy to notice me, but fuck… I notice her!
The pictures didn't serve her any justice, nor did the view of her from the distance I was watching her from earlier. She is sublime, like a fucking painting commissioned from the most skilled artist, perfectly drawn to satisfy desires I didn't even know I had.
There’s no doubt I'm heading straight for trouble, but nothing close to what she's racing toward. I seldom obsess about anything, and never a woman, but forming an instant connection with her feels unavoidable. It isn't love—not a single pure feeling tangled between what emotions I nurture. They all come from a place so deranged it would put the Devil to shame, and they all compel me to have a single purpose—I need to own her.
She must’ve arranged the magazines. I couldn't really tell what she'd done since I was too busy studying the fine features of her face. I do notice that she's preparing to leave, but not before she takes off the band holding her hair up, and uses the window as a mirror to rearrange it.
As if she's been listening to my command, she takes the hairband and lets it slip on her wrist, letting her golden hair cascade to the back in long seductive strands. She's doing it unconsciously, but my body perceives it as a silent calling. My fists tighten while a surge of untamed blood rushes through my veins. It's lust in a form so pure that I’ve never felt before. It's like I can barely control myself around her and her next gesture sends me teetering on the edge of sanity.
Shaking her head for a final check of her hairdo, Serena pulls on the hem of her shirt, trying to make that piece of cheap material look somewhat decent on her. She's not convinced of the result, and how could she be when the shirt belongs in a trash bin? In her last attempt to straighten it somehow, she drags her palms to fall from her collarbone, down her perfectly round breasts.
She repeats the gesture a couple of times, bringing a wave of desert heat to descend directly on my shoulders with such force that I felt it might topple me. I need to touch her so fucking bad that I feel it would destroy me if I don’t do it soon enough.
It’s in this moment of insanity, I decide I need to get even closer to her.
The front door doesn’t allow me to enter without being noticed, at least not until another customer arrives. I haven't seen anyone else enter the gas station in almost an hour, and patience was crossed off my list of virtues a long time ago.
There has to be a service door in the back, and once I find it, it takes me two more minutes to break in. I might not know safes, but I can pick a lock, especially one as cheap as this.
The door led me straight to a small storage room which seemed to connect to a small hallway where the toilets are. From there to the store there isn’t even a door.
I'm inches away from Serena without her even knowing, closing in like a lion that's sniffing out his prey.
Fuck, she's so unaware of what's happening that it turns me on. As if that weren’t enough reason to heighten my impatience to have her, she suddenly starts fussing in her seat while scrolling through her phone. Her hand grabs one of her breasts in an attempt to arrange it beneath the material. There's something about her bra that's bothering her and I can't help myself from wanting to go there and dispose of her problem.
Not yet . I temper myself as I study her for a few more minutes and fight the urge to properly introduce myself. The wait will make things that much better. That's a certainty in my case, and I won't risk spoiling any kind of treat I'll have from owning her.
Serena jumps again from her chair and begins walking straight through the aisle next to the one I’m in. Good thing that the shelves are almost ceiling high. They keep my six-foot-three frame concealed among the merchandise, allowing me to get close enough to observe her.
Her feet begin moving to a strange rhythm as she performs the silliest dance I’ve ever seen while opening the fridge door with one finger and taking out the first sandwich she runs across. Her hips are still swinging as she checks the label and continues to do so all the way to the front where her desk is. Her dance ends with a pirouette as she reaches for a can of Coke from a cooler that's sitting next to the cash register.
She must be hungry, because I can see her multitasking, taking a large bite of the sandwich while opening the can with the other hand. Still, she seems to be looking for something, and I soon realize it’s her wallet. Whatever she’s searching for inside—credit card, or cash—it doesn’t seem to be there, and I have a feeling it’s Nick's doing, which works perfectly fine with me.
The smile on her lips suddenly fades as they shift into a much more angry shape. “Fuck,” I can hear her curse and it instantly triggers something within me. I have strong reasons to be cautious. Every gesture condemned by society seems to appeal to my inner demon and that makes the dark side of me that much more difficult to control. My old self still tries to break the surface and I’m not going to allow him to destroy everything I’ve built so far.
I let out a snarl as a whispered warning that I know will get Serena on her feet. I want her to know she's being watched, the same way I will want her to know who is watching her. But that will only happen when the time is right. For now, I just let her freak out from the sound. From where I'm standing, I can see her searching the cameras and I can only muse to myself knowing that there is no chance they would be working.
What comes as a surprise is that I'm dealing with a brave one tonight. Serena decides to investigate for herself where the sound came from and ventures back between the aisles.
There's a nervous twitch in my hand that's asking me to catch her waist and not to let her escape me. But reasoning kicks in, reminding me that I still need her for the job. As much as I might hate it, I need to act more diplomatically about this.
The smell of fear tainting her skin draws me in like a magnet, but I remain hidden between the shelves, watching how every vein in her body pulses with the awareness of my closeness. I know she can sense me because the next moment she begins walking between the shelves as if she's looking for something. She's looking for me, just doesn't realize it yet.
Sadly, the game is over before it even begins. The sound of the entry doors opening to let in a customer yanks a scream out of her.
She's scared. Just the way she needs to be.
Her fear casts a dark veil to cloud my judgment, growing stronger with every second I remain so close to her. It's not the right time to screw things up, so I decide to step outside for a while, distancing myself from the danger of fully exposing my presence.
Still, I want her to know I'm here. I'll always be out there next to her from now on, watching her, wanting her!
The few customers who come into the store allow me to keep Serena under my surveillance for a while. She’s so busy at the cash register that she doesn't even notice me at first, but when her round eyes stumble upon the window, I see them widen with shock as if she has just seen a ghost.
A client cuts in, giving me enough time to step further away from the light. Some of the lamps outside are broken which makes it difficult for her to spot me, especially since she’s standing in the lit-up room.
I continue watching her from a distance but it doesn’t take long before I get the urge to test her. I want to gauge her bravery, so after throwing her the bait and slightly revealing myself, I want to find out if she has enough guts to follow me outside.
I soon come to discover that this woman is full of surprises. As soon as the last client leaves, she runs to the back of the store and returns carrying something—an axe.
She has a sense of humor, I can give her that. I have no idea how she thinks an axe could ever stop me, but then again, she doesn't know her opponent.
Still, I'm intrigued. If times were different, I’d love to stick around and play. But I see she's panicked to the core and I can't risk her refusing the job I’m offering. I'll just have to behave for the night.
Retreating to a corner, I light a cigarette in an effort to calm myself down while I notice Serena storming through the doors, holding the axe in her hand.
“I'm not afraid of you,” she roars—or more precisely purrs—as she swings the axe around her. There’s nothing threatening within her voice or in her gestures, on the contrary, she makes me laugh to myself, so loud that I let her hear me. I want her to feel me close, luring her, frightening her, breaking the barriers to her sanity.
I can feel her fear all the way from where I'm standing and I can barely resist not exploiting the moment.
As if she caught on to my weakness, she threatens me again, pushing my patience up to a very dangerous limit. “I said I'm not afraid of you...” she screams, with more determinationthis time around while she brandishes a taser into the air.
We both know that's a lie. She’s beyond terrified, and the thought intrigues me so badly that I want to play more with her reactions and make that uncontrollable beat of her heart spread within her whole body.
“Hmmm,” I utter loudly enough for her to hear that she's got my attention.
If I were to be led only by my senses, I wouldn't waste another second before showing her what testing me really means. Maybe even let her use her taser toy on me to make things entertaining. But I know better than to do that, so for now, I just decide to get inside her mind by throwing a lit cigarette next to the pump.
If the place blows up, I know where I'm going. Taking her along would only make things that much sweeter.
Nothing is going to happen anyway. The place isn’t going to blow up just from a cigarette butt. Someone should also tell her that because she dismisses any real peril she might be in and rushes to put out the cigarette.
Only when the danger is eliminated does she realize that she's standing all alone outside in the middle of the gas station. If she were an enemy of mine, she would be dead by now.
The revelation of being an easy target makes her run straight inside and pick up her phone. I'm not sure if she is calling the police or Nick. Either way, I don't stress; just patiently wait to see who it is that's coming to her rescue.
It's pretty interesting watching people interact in situations where they're pushed to their limits, and Serena will soon learn that the only person she would ever need to call when she's on the edge is me . I will be the one pushing her there, the same way that I will be the one saving her whenever she needs me to.
Nick shows up faster than I imagined, parking his car and running inside to check on his girlfriend . For some reason I don't like this term, not when it relates to Serena and I'll take all precautions that it won't be related to her for long.
I stick around for a while to watch them. The man is boredom personified, and from briefly glancing outside, he remains inside the gas station, like the chicken I know he is, leaning on the desk as if that’s the only thing that keeps him from falling asleep.
If it were me in there with Serena, I would have broken at least three of those product shelves with her by now.
In a way, I'm glad he didn't. I'm not sure how I would react seeing that.
Suddenly, there's movement. Serena seems pissed off again and yanks Nick's phone out of his hand. I heard it ring a few times from outside.
I think she wants to answer, but something makes her stop. Nick says something to her. I can't hear what it is, but I do send out a message to my IT specialist to learn who has been calling Nick these days. If it relates to the job, I need to know.
Nothing interesting goes on for several hours, so I move on to my next objective of the night—or rather, the morning—as the sun is beginning to show itself on the horizon and the break of dawn makes me leave before I'm seen.
I end up at the address marked down as being their apartment. I get in as easily as I did in the storage room back at the gas station. They should change the protection on their locks, but the moment I enter I realize there isn’t much to protect here. The place is a dump, and that's putting it nicely. At least it's organized, except for a few beer cans and a bag of open chips that I have a feeling belong to Nick. Still, not nearly good enough for a woman like Serena. That makes me wonder what she sees in that loser. It can't be his two-bit charm, and she's definitely not in it for the money.
I’ve never been able to understand women, but she's proven to be a real mystery.
Wasting a few more minutes, I look around the place. Some used clothes, some make-up, and other womanly shit, but absolutely nothing of value. The bastard must've gambled it all away. That’s one less reason to trust him, not that he comes across as the most trustworthy guy.
I'm starting to wish I had brought a surveillance camera with me that I could set up somewhere in the apartment, but I quickly realize that I would probably spend too much time for my own good watching her. And I'm already behind schedule with pretty much everything.
There's nothing else for me to do inside the apartment. I've seen pretty much everything that was to be seen, which in this case is nothing. The $2M offer I made was more than generous.
I go back to my car, not before leaving the curtains open, hoping they won’t notice. I want to see what will happen when they get home. I should have left for Vegas by now, but there's something keeping me here for a little while longer. It's like I can't seem to leave the place before I see her for a few more minutes.
It takes a couple of hours for them to get home. I'm already pissed off at myself for waiting, but I did know what time she'd be off from work, so the waiting time shouldn't come as a surprise.
Serena seems agitated the second she walks through the door and from what I can see, she makes Nick search the house. Like there's much to search through. You couldn't hide a needle in that can of an apartment.
But why the whole fuss in the first place? Did she know I was there? The thought that she might know turns me on, yet it appears I'm not the only one who feels that way.
Since there's nothing else he can do about calming her down, Nick seems to be playing the affection card. I can see him getting his hands on her, drawing her in for a kiss. He seems pretty heated up about it and from the way her body responds, so does she, even if I feel she was reticent to begin with.
The thought of watching them have sex turns a wheel inside my head. I'm sure I would have found it entertaining in any other situation and the idea of seeing her with her clothes off appeals to me deeply. But as much as I want to enjoy it, it feels more like a knife that's twisting inside my gut.
I don't even know what I'm angrier about, that I'm denying myself the excitement of the free show or because my blood begins boiling the instant I notice his hands advancing inside her shirt.
I would shoot him if I could, but that wouldn't fix any of my problems. I decide to call him instead and set up an urgent appointment that he can't miss. There's no doubt he'll leave her hanging when it comes to money.
Strange, but the instant I grab my phone, someone seems to beat me to it. Nick suddenly reads something on his phone screen and leaves out of the blue without stopping to give Serena any further explanation.
I have to get my hands on his texts and calls list.
The look on Serena's face is priceless. I bet she would rip his balls out through his throat for treating her that way. And she makes her anger known, “Fuck you, Nick!”
That's something we both agree on—Fuck you, Nick.
That was a close call.