Twisted Debt (The Debt Tales #1) Read Online Xavier Neal

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic, Insta-Love Tags Authors: Series: The Debt Tales Series by Xavier Neal
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Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 35494 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 177(@200wpm)___ 142(@250wpm)___ 118(@300wpm)
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“Princess, it wasn’t that type of bet.”

There’s no stopping my head from tilting to the side in confusion.

“Nothing illegal. It was just a simple one between me and-” an unpredicted pause is taken, “a colleague.”

That term sounds too fancy for someone who does in-house tech work for Pleasure Tales, a luxury vacation rental company.

“It’s time for the debt to be settled.”

Uncertainty sinks to the pit of my stomach; however, no more questions are asked.

Dad successfully steers me back to the glass entrance where a cool gust of air hits me the instant the doorman grants us access inside. I expect him to toss a few questions our direction, but he doesn’t. While I’m wearing a black, floor-length evening gown, my diamond chip earrings – the only diamonds I own – and stiletto shoes, I’m still not sold on being dressed nice enough for this place. It has marble practically everywhere. Chandeliers that cost more than my car. And artwork I’m sure the Queen of England herself would appreciate if she were to ever vacation down here in Florida.

Once the two of us are alone in the immaculately clean elevator, I quickly initiate phase two of my query in spite of not being completely satisfied with how phase one went. “Is this a luxury apartment? Are we having dinner at your colleague’s home? Is it a fancy dinner party?”

My father ignores the incessant questioning and presses the button for the top level.

Top level?

Don’t only really really rich people live at the tops of these things?

“Are you twisting your hair again, Zel?” His playful accusation has a hint of gravity, as if this isn’t the first instance he’s asked for the evening.

Technically, it isn’t.

He mentioned it twice on the ride over here.

I sneak my finger from its looped position on an obviously guilty sigh, “No…”

He doesn’t hesitate to smugly grin at getting me to stop.

After adjusting my long, wavy hair that flows all the way down my back to my waist, I release another exasperated exhale. “Dad, I don’t like surprises. You know that.”

“And I don’t like my daughter spending every waking hour in the summer cleaning bathtubs for YouTube ‘stars’ or helping change her mother’s soiled pajamas.”

The harshness of my father’s retort stuns me momentarily speechless.

“Now, do not embarrass me, Zel.” His order is punctuated by the swooshing of the elevator doors. Another aura of finality underlines his statement as we stroll into what appears to be a modern decorated living room being guarded by a thinning-haired butler that possesses an even thinner set of lips.

“Okay, so not a restaurant,” I mutter under my breath.

The butler’s harsh glare darts to me as if I’m a rabid mutt that’s frothing at the mouth.

And he’s definitely not a waiter.

Dad gives the lithe man an almost pleading look. “Can you give us a moment?”

“Mr. Pierson,” the butler snips as if it pains him to speak to the man who brought me here, “you’re already late.”

“All I’m asking is for one last moment with my daughter. Have a heart.”

He rolls his eyes at the statement yet concedes, “Very well then.”

All of a sudden, Dad pulls me into an over-the-top bearhug. While stuck in my father’s stiff embrace, I suffer a glance at the Butler who appears to only be growing unhappier by the passing second.

Why doesn’t he want us here so badly?

What the hell is going on?

“I think we should go,” I quietly suggest to my father at the same time he pulls back to meet my gaze. “We don’t need to enjoy a fancy meal. Whatever bet you made, Dad – and clearly won since we’re gonna be dining with royalty or something – I’m sure you could rain-check it or just get the amount they were going to spend in cash or-”

“I see your father has brought you here under false pretenses,” a smooth, deep voice interrupts, the sharp bite cutting me straight to the core. “Why am I not surprised?”

The weight of the strangers’ words crushes my soul, while the all too familiar guilt in Dad’s wide-eyed gaze rips every last ounce of air out of my lungs. “What. Have. You. Done?”

Chapter Three

Elias

Zel does her best to stop trembling under my scrutinous stare but fails miserably.

I opt out of scolding the young woman – who is ten years younger than me at twenty-five – for simply enjoying the way her tight little body vibrates. How her heaving chest makes her tits practically pop out of the pathetic thing she calls a dress. How the unnecessary panicked breaths bounce the inches and inches of locks that are making my hands itch and dick rock hard in my black slacks.

She continues her mumbled gripes during her frantic skimming and scribbled signing, all of which are lost to the man she calls her father. It’s obvious she truly hopes her words are getting to him, yet if she were to just clamp those plump, perfect-for-sucking-my-cock lips closed for only a moment, she’d see the manipulative bastard is simply relieved to no longer be in my debt.



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