Lavish Corruption – Breaking Belles Read Online Alta Hensley, Stasia Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Dark, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 63
Estimated words: 58521 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
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Mrs. St. Claire just gasped. “Where could they even afford to—”

“Tricia,” Mr. St. Claire snapped at his wife right as my mother’s fingers closed like an iron vise around my wrist. She squeezed and I got the message. It was the same thing she used to do back in the pageant days when I’d done something wrong.

So I did what I was trained to do. I turned on the charm, taking a delicate spoonful of the blueberry trifle the help had brought out for dessert. “Where on earth did your cook manage to find blueberries this size?” I said with faux delight. I turned to my mother. “I swear, Mama, I haven’t seen berries this big since that year Grandma brought that whole bushel from her place down in Valdosta!”

Thus, the brunch was saved.

And I managed to hold my scream back, pent up on the inside, for another day.

7

JASMINE

But that night was another story.

I couldn’t sleep. Even with all the windows open, it was still sweltering. So freaking hot. The devil had snuck in and was boiling my blood. And he was tormenting me with memories of Walker St. Claire’s body over mine.

Reminders of what it felt like to be fucked by a real man.

Especially as my suffocating future stretched out before me. All day after brunch my mother had simultaneously railed against me for my one slip in behavior and made a far too comprehensive list of all the other ‘eligible men’ in town—by which she meant anyone rich enough for her blood, between the ages of eighteen and fifty.

Meanwhile on replay in my head was the feel of Walker’s bulbous cock head popping between my lips. The way he expanded in my mouth because he couldn’t help hardening and thickening further in response to the way my tongue played with him.

I sat up in bed, flushed in the darkness. What was he doing right now? Was he at the Oleander? It was a Saturday night, and I knew from Sully that they liked to have events on Saturday nights. Especially in summertime.

So was Walker there tonight? With some other woman on her knees in front of him? With his belle? Jealousy lashed me at the thought of her. Or would that part of the festivities come later? It was still early, only 10:15.

I sat up and threw off my covers at the thought.

I hated how quiet and demure I’d had to sit all throughout that brunch with Walker’s asshole little brother. I didn’t know how they were even related. Then again, I’d seen how wealth and the expectations it brought affected my friends and everyone around me at Darlington Prep differently. We were all just marionettes on strings—except for Sully, who’d said screw you to the lot of them.

And before I knew it, I was yanking on my slinkiest clubbing dress—the one I kept in the back of my closet where my mother would never find it—and then went to my attached bath to fix my hair and brush on some mascara and colored lip gloss.

I opened my bedroom door and listened. Mom better be actually asleep tonight. But frankly, if she wasn’t, I was resigned to just dodging her questions when I got back like last time. Because after a whole week of being stuffed up in this place and listening to her go on and on about this or that boy and how they’d be an excellent marriage prospect… that scream was gonna finally make it out of my throat.

I slipped downstairs and all was well—the house was dark and not a creature was stirring, not even a past-her-prime widowed society wife. Maybe it was a harsh judgment on my mother, but I was determined to do more living so that when I was her age, I would have… more. I didn’t mean more money. Or more house, which would end up just being a fancy, decaying prison rotting around me like a living tombstone.

I meant more as in more to live for. More that made me happy. More to wake up and get out of bed each day for.

To put it plainly—the thought of living my mother’s life fucking terrified me. But there I was last week, passively letting her arrange my life to be a perfect copy of hers. I mean, no, I’d never marry Baby Brother Percy. God, he was probably still more interested in playing video games than corporate finance. But what if she found someone suitable and she really started applying the pressure...

I scrambled out of the house, locked up behind myself, and then hopped in my car and drove off without once looking back.

The tension in my chest only released once I’d made it to the dark avenue that led to the Oleander, my high beams illuminating the tunnel created by the tree limbs arching over the road.


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