Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67479 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 337(@200wpm)___ 270(@250wpm)___ 225(@300wpm)
“You already know my answer,” I reply.
She huffs out a breath of annoyance. “No comment,” she grumbles, giving me the answer I tell her over and over again. “Just this once. Come on, give me something.” I hold the door open for her, and she stops halfway out to look back at me. “You should know I won’t stop until I get a story.”
“And you should know I will never talk.” I smile at her, the cold air hitting my bare chest.
“So, you admit there is something to talk about?” One of her perfect brows rises at my answer.
“Where is your car?” I ask. It’s late, and the people who come to these events aren’t always here just for the thrill. Some come because they’re as fucked-up as I am. Predators in the dark, looking for an outlet, a target, or someone to bleed with. This woman doesn’t belong here, and that’s a problem I can’t ignore.
“Why?”
“Because it’s time for you to go home. Now, where is it?”
She turns and points to a little red car. I usher her toward it, and when we reach it, she gets out her keys and opens the door.
“Goodnight, Cressida. I hope I never see you here again.”
She rolls her eyes, and I want to spank her for her attitude. But instead, I clench my teeth as she bends ever so slightly to throw her bag onto the passenger seat, and I can’t help but look down at her ass. Glancing over her shoulder, she catches me but doesn’t say a word regarding my lingering stare.
“Oh, you’ll see me again. I can’t resist seeing that handsome face.” She offers me a full, white-toothed smile before she gets into her car. I stand, unmoving, as she shuts the door and then starts the car. And I wonder why I haven’t discarded her yet. I have done so to many people for less—yet, here she is, still breathing. I watch her drive off until her taillights disappear, then I head to my own car.
I drove my Porsche here last time, only to come out and find it stolen. Now I drive a much less conspicuous car. As I get into my Toyota, my phone rings before I can even start the engine. Glancing down at it, I see my sister’s name flash on the screen.
I love my sister. A lot. She has health issues, and we don’t have any other family, so I’ve taken care of her all my adult life. And sometimes, just sometimes, it’s tiring as fuck. Contemplating not answering it, I sit and let it ring a few times. Then I finally accept the call and put the phone to my ear.
“Maya, it’s late” are the first words I say to her.
Maya and I are close, but there are many things I don’t share with her. She knows about the Forsaken Society, sure, but not everything that comes with it—the secrets, the deals, and the darkness that hides behind the masks. She has been to parties, brushed shoulders with the members, and for a while, she thought she could handle it. She even asked me to pair her with one of them.
I did.
Big mistake.
It went to fucking shit faster than either of us saw coming.
“I know. I just wanted to know if I can borrow the jet.”
“What?” I say, shaking my head.
“I want to go to Las Vegas.”
“Goodnight.” I hang up on her.
Maya needs to get a damn job and stop living off my money. She’s a grown-ass woman, but anytime I mention her working, she uses her illness to tug on my heartstrings. She has a weak heart, and while it was touch-and-go for a bit, lately she’s been healthy. So, I’m hoping, even though she’s annoying sometimes, that it stays that way. I adore my sister, but at times I wish she would live her own life, instead of intruding on mine.
THREE
CRESSIDA
My job is to investigate things that the everyday person could never even fathom. I interview some of the worst people who have ever lived. And I love it. I understand this job isn’t for everyone—it’s fucked-up, some of the stuff I uncover. It also makes me extremely paranoid and even more protective of my son.
I went to college for journalism, but working for a local newspaper is worlds apart from being in the chaos of a big media corporation. Thankfully, my ex was well-connected, and when I first started out, he pulled some strings to get me an internship at one of the big digital news outlets. I clawed my way up from there, one late-night deadline at a time. A few years later, they gave me my first big lead, and I have been addicted to the chase ever since. And it’s what I love.
A lot of my stories go viral, which keeps me comfortably paid. My boss wants to keep his golden goose happy and on his staff.