My Totally Unfair Deal Read Online Whitney G

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Novella Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 43239 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 216(@200wpm)___ 173(@250wpm)___ 144(@300wpm)
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Then I hear it.

The low purr of a luxury engine coming down the main lane—the one lined with no-driving signs every ten feet.

I glance through the window and spot a black Escalade rolling right over the gravel.

Of course.

You can take these city boy guests out of Manhattan, but they’ll still disrespect posted signs—and the landscaping.

Time and time again.

Frustrated, I yank off my gloves and storm outside, stepping directly into the car’s path.

It finally halts at the tenth sign, and I don’t even hesitate before throwing up my middle finger. “Can’t you read, asshole?!”

The driver’s door opens.

And out steps Harrison.

Crisp white button-down. Dark blue jeans. No tie. No shield. Just him.

He removes his sunglasses slowly and looks right at me—expression unreadable, but those eyes… they drag over my dress, then back to my face.

My heart stumbles.

Don’t you dare fall for that again.

“I hope you haven’t forgotten everything I taught you that easily,” he says, stepping toward me. “Week one lesson: don’t flip off strangers in polite company.”

“You mean in that crash course you gave me on how to get abandoned and humiliated?” I fold my arms. “Yeah, I aced that one.”

“My brother should be back soon,” I add coolly. “You can wait on the porch.”

“I didn’t come to see your brother.” He winces and I notice a slight bruise under his left eye.

“Do you have a reservation at this resort, then?” I raise a brow. “Because if not, I’m calling security⁠—”

“Go ahead.” He keeps walking. “I’ve called you for six days straight. Did you block me?”

“No.”

“Then why haven’t you answered?”

“Because I have better people to talk to,” I snap. “You got what you wanted, Harrison. You said the deal was done. So if you don’t mind⁠—”

“I’m so fucking sorry.”

He says it fast. Like he’s been holding it in.

“I should’ve never let you go like that. I should’ve been there for you after the conference, and every day since.”

My breath catches, but I steel myself.

“Come back when one of those ‘sorries’ erases all the nights I cried over you,” I say. “Apology unaccepted. Now get off my property.”

“I’m sorry for not calling sooner. I should’ve fought harder—for you, for us.” He inches closer. “I screwed up, and I know it. But I need a chance to make it right.”

“With all due respect, Mr. Jones,” I say coldly, “I have work to do.”

“I fucking miss you,” he says, voice fraying. “This past month has been the worst stretch of my life. I can’t stop thinking about you. And instead of wondering what you’re doing or who you’re with, I want to be with you.”

My throat tightens. I don’t want to cry in front of him again. But his voice is raw in a way I’ve never heard before.

“For what it’s worth,” he adds, “you never needed to change a damn thing. I did.”

I take a shaky breath. “Apology still unaccepted.” My voice cracks. “I will call security, Harrison. I’m not kidding.”

“I’m not done.” He brushes a strand of hair from my cheek and tucks it behind my ear—so soft, so gentle, I forget how to breathe.

“I can’t sleep without you.” His voice drops. “My bed’s too cold, my place too quiet. Everything reminds me of you, and I can’t take it anymore.”

I swallow hard.

“I want to be where you are, Eliza. I want to move here to Tennessee…Wherever you are, that’s where I want to be. And I would’ve come here a lot sooner to tell you this, but your brother beat my ass when he picked me up from the airport and… I needed to recover for a few days before I came to see you.”

My chest tightens, and a soft laugh escapes my lips.

“You’d leave the city?”

“I’d leave it all,” he says. “The penthouse, the skyline, the clients—I don’t care. None of it matters without you. I need you.”

“What about your penthouse? Your clients? Your city life?”

“I’ll rent it. Or sell it.”

“We don’t offer permanent residence here.”

“How rude of you to assume.” He grins faintly, then leans in and kisses me—quick and hot and completely infuriating. “I can afford to buy a house.”

“Well, I just⁠—”

“I love you.”

I blink. “What?”

“I love you.” His eyes don’t waver.

The air leaves my lungs. “I love you too.”

He exhales, relieved. “Are you really working right now, or just picking fights with weeds until you stop thinking about me?”

“Who’s assuming now?”

“I’ll take that as an answer.” He kisses me again, and this time, I kiss him back.

He wraps me in his arms, lifting me just enough to knock the air from my lungs. The kiss deepens—slow, searing, like Manhattan never ended. Then, with one last glance over his shoulder, he opens the town car door and guides me inside.

We don’t speak on the drive up to the main house.

He parks, circles around, and opens my door like we’re back in New York. Then he takes my hand and leads me straight to my bedroom.


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