“You’ve finally did it, Killian! You’ve pushed my last button!”
“Of course I did, Grandfather,” I drawled while scrolling through my phone. His rants typically lasted fifteen minutes. I just had to hold on for…twelve minutes and thirty-two seconds. Piece of cake.
“Do you even care?”
He slammed his hand against the desk. A Victorian 19th century mahogany pedestal kneehole writing desk. Full of history. Just not our family history.
“You’re an ungrateful child! Everything I’ve worked for is for you and your brother and you don’t even care!”
True—at least for me. I couldn’t help it. I was blessed, or cursed, with a superior intellect and a nasty personality. Which meant I got bored or mean.
There wasn’t enough to do here because my grandfather was a control freak. Which did little to make me nice.
Honestly, wasn’t it really his fault I turned out to be such a rotten man? If he wanted me to sit in concrete box all day then the least he could do was look away when I diddled an adventurous sorority girl or two.
I shared that particular insight with him and, not surprisingly, Grandfather hit the roof.
“My fault! My fault that you get pulled over speeding with two naked coeds? My fault I had to have Romano pull every string to get you out without being processed much less charged?”
Tilting my head from one side to the other, I answered simply, “Yes.”
This really got him going. Ten minutes and twenty-seven seconds…
“You arrogant little shit! I’ll tell you what’s my fault! I should’ve never let you get away with murder. I spared the rod and spoiled the child! If your mother could see you now…”
Time to tune him out.
I simply had no patience for his yammering when he got like this. Besides, what did he expect me to do?
There was no point in asking because I knew, had known since I earned my useless education.
I was expected to come to work every day like a good boy. (Which I did. Usually. Most of the time. When I felt like it and if nothing else was going on.)
I had no access to the part of the company that truly interested me. (Why else did I get a degree in chemical engineering if I was never going to use it?)
I wasn’t allowed to make suggestions at the interminably boring board meetings. (I did anyways but they were either shot down or met with contempt. Idiots.) Those very same suggestions would increase profits by 20% easily.
Did Gramps appreciate my vision? No.
I got patted on the head and sent to my office while the other grownups got to do the real work.
He was lucky I found sex to pass the time. What else was there to do when life was this boring?
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Sophia Carter has loved Alexander Monroe Draven II since she was a girl, but he became an obsession too dangerous to keep. Now he’s back. The billionaire wants Sophia & he won’t take no for an answer.
Length: Novella | 1 of 6
TAGS: Billionaire, Dom/Sub, Second-Chance Love, Office Romance
My legs shook. I placed my hands on the bathroom counter and leaned closer to my reflection. Flushed cheeks and fever-bright eyes suggested I was either sick or had just been fucked out of my mind.
It wasn’t an either/or but an actual both.
What was I thinking to start this up now? It was too soon after seeing Alexander again. I thought I had changed enough to be different or evolved to not be so vulnerable and attached to him. I thought I could handle it.
I was wrong. Already I couldn’t imagine going back to a life without him.
The bathroom door opened. Alexander walked in, dark gaze inscrutable, white shirt unbuttoned, and ice-blue tie unknotted and barely hanging on. His swollen lips were proof of how ravenous and desperate I’d been in kissing him. Red scratch marks scored his broad chest while a small bruise marred his gorgeous abdominals.
My mouth dried, making it difficult to swallow. I tightened my fingers on the granite counter, trying in vain to stop the animalistic lust threatening to once more make me a violent bitch in heat.
“Are you all right, Sophia? You ran out so quickly.”
Alexander’s husky voice sent tremors throughout my body. My half-smile belied the struggle I suffered to keep my traitorous hands to myself. “I’m fine, Alexander.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I turned my attention away from him and focused on rearranging my clothes. My pale-pink bra did have a slight tear but would fortunately hold up long enough to get me out of the building.
Thank God it’s Friday and a three day weekend. Everyone’s probably gone home by now.
I didn’t relish the idea of having to do the “walk of shame”. Never, ever had I dated someone from work much less had sex with the same someone at my workplace. Just like that I tossed my ethics aside for him just as I always had. The instinct to run wiped out all my promises to him.
Nothing had changed. I was still the same unstable basket case when it came to him and that meant I absolutely could not stay here with Alexander. I had to get my head on straight, force some distance until I could get myself together. I needed time. Time to figure out how to start again with the only man I’ve ever loved.
I had to leave. Now.
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