My Dark Desire (Dark Prince Road #2) Read Online L.J. Shen

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Contemporary, Dark Tags Authors: Series: Dark Prince Road Series by L.J. Shen
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Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
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Shit.

He’d thrown that at me.

Actually tossed a knife at me.

That escalated quickly.

Vera always said my smart mouth won me stupid prizes. But I never thought I’d anger someone to the point of assassination.

I shifted to zig-zags, knowing it would slow my pace but also not wanting to leave here with a souvenir the shape of a second asshole.

Zach’s dark and broody laughter rang behind me.

He’s enjoying this.

Sociopath.

According to legend, Zach Sun never laughed. Barely ever cracked a smile. That he was a morose man, tough as nails, his heart full of rust.

This was what cracked his façade?

I’d get revenge on this prick if it was the last thing I did on Earth.

In my haste, one of my sneakers loosened from my foot, spearing into a pocket of mud. I had no time to look back. To stop.

I continued galloping forward with only one shoe on. Water doused my bare foot in an instant.

When I reached his iron-wrought gate, I knew he thought he had me cornered. I also knew once I made it past the bars, Zach wouldn’t be dumb enough to stab me.

Self-defense was hard to prove when your victim sported a hole in their back, even if you were the fifth richest man on Planet Earth and everyone treated you like you wielded a gold-plated dick.

Watch and learn, sucker.

With flourish, I planted my foot on the metal bar and scaled the monstrous twelve-footer. The rails were absent of nooks, but I had enough momentum and core to hoist myself over it.

Once I leapt to the other side, I bowed theatrically, this time clutching the muddy hem of the gown for emphasis.

When I tipped an invisible hat his way, his jaw squared.

The tiny reaction felt like a victory.

Octopus: 1.

Lobster: 0.

I was drenched like a stray cat, my hair a mess and my heart a wreck, but I would never give Zachary Sun the pleasure of seeing me break. “So long, Lobster. And thanks for the fish.”

“Lobster?”

“Octopuses’ favorite snack.”

I disappeared into the night before the heavy gates crawled open.

His men hunted me like hounds, flashlights piercing through the night, golf carts humming in my ears. But I evaded them, cutting through the wooded acres surrounding the property.

The thing about octopuses?

We camouflaged very well.

When I returned home, I mustered just enough energy to crawl into bed. Mud dried in thick cakes around my calves and ankles.

Tomorrow, I’d wake up with a cold from the drenched dress.

Tonight, all I could do was spend every minute until morning weeping into my pillow.

For the pendant I couldn’t retrieve.

For the dreams that had fallen out of reach.

For Dad.

Next time, Pops. Promise.

Zach Sun:

Grand Regent.

Ninety minutes.

Ollie vB:

Pass.

Ollie vB:

Wicked party last night, Sun.

But I’m still recovering from the previous week’s sexcapades.

Romeo Costa:

You mean the legacy gala your hotel held?

Ollie vB:

Yep.

Zach Sun:

The one where 90% of attendees were on Social Security?

Ollie vB:

No one gives a hummer like a gummer.

Romeo Costa left the chat.

Zach Sun left the chat.

Ollie vB renamed the chat Social Security Administration.

Itilted the grimy shoe in my hand, studying it.

It was so worn out, I couldn’t make out the brand. I’d done some online research and narrowed it to either Vans or Converse.

By the power of deduction—and fucking logic—I guessed it was the cheapest out of the two. The girl looked too poor to afford air.

“And then she climbed over your gate, hopped to the other side, and bowed?” Romeo punched buttons on the panel to the cryochamber. “Are you sure you experienced it and not, well… dreamed it?”

Sweat drenched my shirt from our morning workout—notably not as taxing as my little run with Octi last night.

I tugged the back, slid it over my head in one swoop, and balled the performance fabric in my fist, dumping it into a hamper. “I’m positive my mind did not conjure a con woman who knows how to play Go and walks around in see-through lingerie.”

Romeo flicked the lights to the ice room on. “Why not? Sounds like your fantasy.”

I have no fantasies, you fool. Let alone about women.

Human flesh disgusted me.

He stretched his arms. “Maybe it was the alcohol? That Jamaican rum was potent as fuck.”

“I wasn’t drunk.”

“But I was.” Ollie moseyed in from the bathroom, stark naked, swinging his dick in the air. That thing was longer than a lemur’s tail. I hoped he taped it to the side of his thigh on dates. His entire existence was one big sexual harassment. “I was smashed.”

He stopped by the panel, shouldering Rom out of the way and choosing the advanced option.

Below -266F.

Four minutes.

The screen monitored the temperature inside as it plummeted, right along with my patience. He’d spent the entire morning bitching about his hangover.

Since the three of us lived on the same street, it took all of two seconds to break into his home, pull him out by the ear, and drag him to the decked-out, three-story penthouse suite in his family-owned luxury hotel.



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