10. Warren
10
WARREN
S neaky bitch.
I looked over my nightstand with a frown as I realized some of the stuff had been shifted. It had always looked the same. For years. Fifteen to be exact.
So, when one thing was out of place, like the fact that my ChapStick had rolled to the front of the drawer after someone carelessly shut it, I took note.
There was no one else in the house that would have the audacity to look through my stuff.
But Addi?
She probably got off on it.
I thought of her on her knees for me. I could see the desire in her eyes mixing with the hatred. It was such a delicious look on her.
I couldn’t stop the satisfied smile from spreading across my face.
She was still in the office; I could hear her cursing me from across the hall.
Who knew teaching Addi a lesson in submission would be so entertaining?
I let the smile go and mentally kicked myself for that thought.
This wasn’t supposed to be amusing. It was about control. Revenge. To show her that she couldn’t mess with me. To remind her just how much power I had over her.
But what I pulled in there? I should have fucked her throat until she was begging for mercy. And instead?—
My phone rang, pulling me from my mental spiral.
I looked at the caller ID and cursed under my breath. I’m too tired for this shit.
“Make it quick,” I ordered over the phone.
“Last I checked, I don’t report to you,” Dominic replied, annoyance threading his tone.
No, he doesn’t. He was the only person who had rejected my offer to work with the Black Silk Auction House. Dominic Astor got rich and famous off a single painting of a crying woman a decade ago and had since then made it his mission to open as many galleries as possible.
He made an obscene amount of money and would bring in a new wave of clientele neither Maxwell nor I could.
Yet he wanted nothing to do with it.
“What is it?” I said with a sigh, tiredness from not sleeping weighing on me.
“I’m calling to remind you of the charity ball this coming Wednesday."
Shit. Damn it. As if things couldn’t get any more hectic.
“You can’t back out,” he continued quickly, already feeling my hesitancy. “Your name has been published, and the media will be there.”
I bit my tongue. But then, the most sinful idea crossed my mind.
Addi wanted to act out? Then she was going to get what was coming to her.
“I wouldn’t dream of it. I’ll be there.”
“And don’t forget I invited?—”
I hung up and beelined back to the office.
“Get up, Addi; we have some shopping to do.”
* * *
“Warren, no ,” Addi gasped in horror as I pulled her into Haute Noire, Kian Knight’s first and largest clothing shop. “There are more than enough clothes in the closet?—"
The shop was three stories high and catered to the most expensive of tastes. I’d never really had the need to buy clothes for a partner, but I knew Kian’s store was the place to go.
“ Yes , Addi,” I replied, annoyance pricking my tone.
Since when does a Mercer not want to spend money?
The reports I got about her various different jobs painted a much different picture of her than the Addi I once knew. This one didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. Didn’t mind the labor and even took extra shifts.
Has she really changed that much? It was hard to believe.
I remembered her days in her father’s office and how she would turn up every day with a new—and very expensive—pair of shoes. She loved money.
So did her father. It’s why he ended up the way he did. Did the things he did.
He wasn’t an outlier, though; many of the businessmen who got a taste of success had a need for more and more and more until they couldn’t tell right from wrong anymore.
That’s why I did what I did. So no more men like him could destroy the lives of the people he fucked over.
I glanced at Addi as she took in the store with wide eyes.
A large chandelier hung in the middle, encompassing all three floors. The top two wrapped around it with a glass railing holding back some of the salesclerks. They looked down at us, and when they recognized me, they whispered amongst themselves.
One was at my side in less than a minute.
“Mr. King,” she greeted with a warm smile. “May I take your jacket?” Her uniform was spotless, hair tied back in a flawless updo. Even her makeup screamed minimalistic and clean.
Kian sure has his branding together.
I shook my head and pushed Addi forward.
“We have a charity gala,” I said. “We need something…”
For the first time, I truly looked at Addi. Before that moment, I’d seen her, but I don’t think I had actually taken in her state.
The bags were dark under her eyes, her skin pale and flat. Her lips, chapped. Her hair was down and looked like it had recently been cut, but I could make out the leftover cheap dye job.
She might have dolled herself up for the auction, but once the makeup was washed off and the fancy clothes were gone, this was Addi.
What happened to her?
“Ah, the one at L'Atelier de Luxe, right?’ she asked, her knowledge of the event shocking me.
“Yes.” My voice was curt.
She lit up at that. “I think I have the perfect thing. Mr. Knight was rumored to be attending as well. He would be delighted to see one of his pieces among the art.”
She held out her hand for Addi, but instead of motioning for her to enter, she held it out for her to take it. An oddly warm gesture.
Addi hesitated before putting her hand in hers.
“My name is Violet, and I am honored to be dressing you today,” she said with a smile.
Addi’s cheeks started to turn a glorious shade of pink.
“Addison,” she said.
“Right this way.” She led her into the store before turning to me. “Mr. King, do feel free to take fitting room one. There is coffee and pastries there for you to indulge in.”
Coffee. I was in desperate need of it. With each passing moment, I was feeling my body get heavier and heavier.
“I expect to see them,” I told Addi before they left.
“Don’t worry,” she said with annoyance in her tone. “I’ll make sure to get your approval before purchase.”
Her attitude had my cock hardening, but I was too tired to care.
I went to the waiting room and sunk into the large white couch they provided while waiting for my own Addi fashion show.
I was tired, but I wasn’t dead.