21. Lev
I stare at the Facebook page on my laptop.
Social media. It’s amazing what people will mindlessly put on there. What they’re eating. Who they’re with. Where they work. Every banal thing we didn’t want to know about them right there in front of us.
But I can’t deny how useful it has become when we want to know more about people. Where they are. How we can find them. Who their loved ones are.
Brooke, on the other hand, isn’t one for sharing. Her posts are few and far between and offer very little information. Well, to the untrained eye, anyway.
Which is ironic for a marketing manager.
Her posts are mostly of her with her friends. Out to dinner. Sharing cocktails. There are only a couple of posts featuring Wilson, and in them, she doesn’t seem as happy as she does in the posts that include her friends. The sparkle in her eyes isn’t there. And her smile seems forced.
Can’t say I blame her.
I scroll through her Facebook feed until I find one particular post. It’s a post I’ve looked at a thousand times since I first saw it. In the photo, she’s looking over her shoulder as if someone has called her name, and in that second, she looks like the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen in the world.
Just like she did on the day I first saw her.
I remember the moment because it’s seared into my soul.
I had just shot Aleks, and while we were traveling back to the hotel, Feliks informed me about Wilson skipping out of town, leaving his bride at the altar.
So I went to their apartment to see for myself and saw her climb out of the car in her wedding dress still carrying her bouquet. Before she disappeared inside, she turned and looked over her shoulder as if she knew I was there, and I caught sight of her face for the very first time. It was like a lightning bolt struck my rib cage and sent an electrical charge into my chest cavity. I sat back, rocked by her beautiful face. Those big bunny eyes. Those lips. And I knew then that there was no way Wilson would not be coming back. Because that wasn’t a face you left behind. He would be back. And when he was, I would be waiting.
But patience isn’t my strong suit. So when the men who were placed on watch outside of her apartment contacted me and let me know she had fled to the airport the following morning, I decided it was time to intervene.
I want to say I went there because I believed she knew where Wilson was, and I was going to get it out of her one way or another. I want to say that I bought that first-class ticket and used my power and name to get the seat next to her, even though it was already taken, because it was a means to an end.
But just like my reason for bringing her here…
I suspect they’re all fucking lies.
There is a knock on my door, and I close my laptop just as Enya gestures for Brooke to enter.
The moment Brooke sees me, she scowls, and I have to contain my smile. She hates me, and it sends a spark straight to my groin.
I gesture for her to sit down. “Sit.”
But she folds her arms and lifts her chin. “I’m fine right here.”
I smile and rise from my chair, move around my desk, and lean against the edge.
“I’ve made a decision,” I say.
“Good for you.”
“It’s about you.”
“This should be interesting.”
“For the foreseeable future, you are to accompany me to a series of events as my plus one.”
Her arms fall to her side. “You expect me to be your… fake date?”
I’m loving the mix of surprise and anger playing out on her lovely face way more than I should be.
“I have several engagements I must attend in the coming week. Several that require me to bring a date. You will accompany me and be convincing as my plus one.”
“Surely you’re joking,” she finally says.
“I assure you, this is no joke.”
“You’re an—”
“Asshole, I know, but this is happening, Brooke, whether you like it or not.”
Her jaw stiffens with hatred as she considers the situation.
“Can I at least have my phone back?”
“And have you make phone calls you’ll only regret, I don’t think so.”
“I won’t call the police if that’s what you’re worried about, but my friends might if they don’t hear from me.”
“Your friends have received the necessary messages needed to keep any suspicions at bay.”
Her eyes widen and grow wild with anger. Which, I won’t lie, is a turn-on. It reminds me of the inhibited passion she keeps chained within her.
A white-hot passion I know how to bring out in her.
Remembering her crying out with uninhibited ecstasy as she came on my cock makes me hard.
“You broke into my phone and messaged them?”
“Of course,” I reply unapologetically, which only pours fuel on her anger.
“That’s such a dick move,” she exclaims.
I simply smile and notice how her hands fist at her sides.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, Miss Masters. You’re here because your fiancé tried to blackmail me, and while you are here, I can do whatever the hell I want with you.”