I tried. I fucking tried. I slam my fist down on the wheel. At least karma bit her in the ass and the asshole she cheated on me with left her. It would’ve been better if I could have proved that she was cheating. Then she would have walked away with far less.
I take in a deep breath, pulling off of the interstate and getting closer to my penthouse.
“She has nothing to lose, Lucian. We can sue her afterward, but the damage will be done.” I swallow thickly, hating that one mistake so many years ago can continue to cause me damage.
“And what do you suggest?” I ask him.
“We can pay her, or the magazines, but I imagine she’d be cheaper.” I scoff and look out of the window as I drive into the private garage and key in my personal PIN. I check the time, it’s six forty. My little treasure should be waiting for me.
“She’s not getting anything. I refuse to pay her one cent.”
Just as I say the words, the sound of an incoming call comes through the background.
“It will be expensive not to pay her, Mr. Stone. We can always pay now and sue later.” His tone holds a hint of a warning, letting me know he doesn’t approve, but I don’t give a fuck. He works for me, and I don’t care how much money I have to spend to make sure she doesn’t profit off a damn thing from me anymore.
“No. She gets nothing.” I end the call and answer the next, pulling my black R8 in next to the Aston Martin. I’m on the fourth floor of the garage. It’s private and all mine. I glance around the space as I answer, “Stone.”
“Mr. Stone, this is Andrea from the agency, do you have a moment to speak with me?”
I pinch the bridge of my nose and wish I could ignore these problems. Public relations is a pain in my ass.
A long inhale calms me slightly as I say, “I’m listening.”
“Given the current climate, I’ve been working with Alena and we feel it may be best if we were to combat the possibility of your ex’s story being released with a different form of press.”
I open my mouth to remind her that in my opinion, no press is good press. I don’t want to be seen anywhere. I can’t even stand the business articles from Forbes and Business Insider. I’m not interested.
“I understand that you prefer to stay out of the limelight, so to speak, but in my professional opinion…” she pauses on the phone and I find myself watching the digital dash, waiting for her to continue. “May I be frank with you, Mr. Stone?”
“Yes.” I prefer if everyone were frank so I didn’t have to deal with fake bullshit.
“Your wife has held this over your head for years, and her story is going to come out whether she profits from it or not, doesn’t matter. She’s going to go through with this. I think it’s best that we create an appearance now that will refute the picture she intends to paint.”
I swallow thickly, staring straight ahead through the windshield at the grey cylinder blocks of the garage. I’m numb to this. There’s nothing that she can really do to hurt me. I glance at the elevator. I just want to get upstairs to my penthouse and go straight to the playroom.
A small smile kicks my lips up. She’ll be waiting for me like a good girl. Just like yesterday and every day these past two weeks. It’s time to give her some real training. My fingers itch to touch the thick coarse fibers of the rope that’s already laying on the bed. She’s going to get a lesson in saying please and thank you today, and I can hardly wait.
“I think it would be best to create the impression that you’re in a committed and loving relationship. We all love couples. So much more so than a nasty divorce. Weddings are the best sellers.”
My eyebrows raise at her comment. She’s delusional if she thinks that shit's going to happen. “I’m not interested in a PR stunt, Andrea.”
“I’m only saying, what if you were to be seen in a romantic setting and paparazzi happened to take your picture? And let’s say that the picture happened to be leaked, along with a story that you confirmed to be true. Well if that situation were to occur, it would go a long way in making your ex look like a villain and you as a prince charming that the public is rooting for.”
It’s quiet for a moment as I consider her request.
“It will make you look relatable. In fact, it may be better than the story she’s selling,” she adds with a bright and cheery tone. “Just a thought.”
“Fine,” I finally say with my fingers on the key in the ignition.
“Wonderful,” Andrea’s tone remains upbeat. I have a feeling she must have real assholes for clients since she’s never bothered by my tone. “Shall we send someone out for you?”
“No,” I’m quick to cut her off. I have my treasure, and I think she’d enjoy it. I pause as I realize I hadn’t thought twice about whether or not it should be Dahlia. I can imagine how I’d tease her under the table. Yes. I have to remember cameras will be watching, but I’m going to enjoy myself.
“Thank you, Andrea. I’ll have my reservations for this evening sent to you.”
“No need, Mr. Stone. You’re all set at the Ritz; a table’s been reserved for you at any time you choose.”
I huff a humorless laugh. “You pay us well, Mr. Stone,” Andrea says. “I have faith in this plan.”
I don’t, but at least I have my treasure waiting for me.
Chapter 14
Dahlia
A shiver snakes down my limbs as my thighs tremble from exertion, my ass stuck high into the air. I’ve been waiting in this position for what feels like forever. It’s a bit uncomfortable, but it’s how he wants me. My sir. He’s coming for me. And he expects me to be ready to take him. All of him.
My breathing becomes heavy, labored, as I keep my hands firmly planted against the lush mattress. I want to be perfect for him. I need to please him and make sure I obey. The only thing he’s asked of me is to wait for him just like this. And I can do that. I did it yesterday.
My body trembles again, my ass trembling with a chill, my pussy clenching with insatiable need. Fuck. I can hardly wait.
Keeping myself balanced, I glance around the room. My clothes are in a neat pile on a chair in the corner, but Lucian isn’t here yet. Where is he? I want him here now. Ravaging me. Dominating me for everything I’m worth.
I turn my head back toward the wall, concentrating on keeping my ass suspended in the air. I’ll wait however long it takes for him to get here. I need him to see me like this the moment he walks in. My nipples pebble as I imagine him walking down the hall toward this master suite, dressed in one of his expensive business suits, his shirt unbuttoned, his tie loosened, looking sexy as fuck. Ready to fuck.
I let out a groan, my pussy clenching repeatedly on thin air, wishing his cock was there. Another groan escapes my lips as I imagine him behind me, fucking me mercilessly, his blunt nails digging into my hips as he thrusts harder and deeper.
I’m so horny, I have the overpowering urge to reach down and rub my pussy. But I know I’m not supposed to. I scissor my thighs, craving some friction. Just the tiniest bit. It’s a battle, and I’m almost about to give in to the desire to touch myself, when I hear the sound of the door creaking open.