Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93929 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Still, I lug my bucket inside and go back for the vacuum. I don’t even know why I do it. Am I really going to keep pretending like I still work for him? We’re supposed to get married. His money’s my money now. Although probably not: he seems smart enough to demand a prenup, and my father’s big enough of a bastard to grant it without question.
I keep waiting, but he doesn’t show. After a couple minutes, I start cleaning purely to give myself something to do.
The apartment’s gorgeous. I’ll give him that. It’s definitely impersonal and looks like it was decorated by some random interior designer, but everything is new and clearly very expensive. Also, it’s never used. Cleaning is a complete breeze. It’s more just wiping up the minimal amount of dust that fell since the last time I was here.
The place feels like a hospital wing. Actually, no, scratch that—hospitals have more life than this apartment does.
At least the views are beautiful. The windows overlook the city. Lights glitter down below. I feel like I’m floating on top of the world, perched high above everyone, up where nobody can ever hurt me. Far out of the reach of my father and my brothers.
Too bad that’s a total freaking fiction.
Because somehow, they even reached their grubby fingers into this place.
I make it out to the pool and finally give up. I dump my cleaning stuff in a corner, kick off my shoes, roll up my jeans, and sit with my feet in the water. It’s warm like always, like Finn makes sure it’s heated just for me. God knows nobody else is swimming in here.
Honestly, the more I think about it, the more I’m pretty sure I’m the only person who ever comes in here.
I’ve never seen a mess. No clothes, no dishes, no dirty glasses, nothing. No sign of life at all. Now I can’t stop myself from wondering if Finn set this entire place up just to trap me.
What I don’t get is why he’d do it.
If he wanted to meet, there are about a million easier and less humiliating ways to do it. He let me come in here, night after night, to scrub his floors and his toilets, probably laughing the whole time. The more I think about it, the angrier I feel. There’s no way in hell he didn’t know who I was when he hired me. This whole situation reeks of some insane trap.
I keep expecting him to show. He still doesn’t. I glare around me, getting pissed. Eventually, I lie on my back and stare up at the stars through the glass dome. My feet idly kick through the water. My mind wanders and this place is too peaceful for me to stay angry for long.
Which is when I notice him standing in the door, just watching me quietly.
I flinch and sit up quickly. My heart’s racing into my throat. He keeps on watching, looking amused. “Why do you keep doing that?”
“Doing what?”
“Staring at me. It’s so creepy.”
“I didn’t want to startle you.”
“Great, you did an amazing job.” I draw in a deep breath to steady myself. “Only nearly gave me a heart attack instead.”
He steps into the pool area. “No sauna today?”
I struggle to calm myself. I keep my back straight and refuse to show fear, but there’s plenty of it rattling inside my stomach. “I decided we should have this conversation with our clothes on.”
His smirk is so sharp it could easily cut my throat. “I take it you spoke with your father.”
“You knew the whole time, didn’t you?”
I expect him to lie. I assume he’ll have a dozen different reasons and excuses. Instead, he only nods once. “Yes, I did.”
A hysterical laugh bubbles from my throat. “You knew and you still—” I can’t even say the word. The memory of the other night spills down my spine. His hands on my body. His cock in my mouth, in my pussy. Breaking into a million pieces and floating away into bliss.
“Still fucked you?”
My jaw tenses. “Yes. You still fucked me.”
“I didn’t think it would make much of a difference.” He doesn’t come closer, which is a small blessing. I might scream if he did.
“What the hell is this?” I gesture around me. “Why did you hire me to clean your goddamn apartment?”
“I wanted to get to know you.”
“That’s insane. You know conversations were invented, right?”
“I find those overrated.”
“I bet you do. You’re the type of LinkedIn psychopath who believes in optimizing his daily routine, right?”
“Not exactly.”
I push myself to my feet. Water runs off my calves. I face him, arms crossed defensively. “I’m going to tell my father no.”
His head tilts curiously. “Will that work?”
“Probably not,” I confess, stuttering a bit. “But I’m going to try anyway.”
“What happens when we still get married?”