Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 28998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 28998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 145(@200wpm)___ 116(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
I go still, my beer centimeters from my lips.
“Fiancée,” the arrogant prick corrects him, snatching his drink from Cherry. “That’s what the big rock on her finger means, bro.”
“Yeah, yeah, suck this big rock,” his pal clowns him. “What’s her name again?”
“Mira.”
Every muscle in my body goes tense. All the breath escapes my lungs.
Mira.
This fucking snobby dickhead is her fiancé? I watch him toss back his scotch like I’m watching a horror movie in slow-motion, my fingers curling around my beer bottle like I could shatter it. He laughs and pounds his chest—a laughable attempt at masculinity. “She’s a good girl, you know what I mean? A little too good? But I guess I can’t complain. She comes with a massive dowry, and once we’re hitched, no way her dad can fire me. His company is as good as mine.”
His buddies roar with laughter as he continues, bragging about his future conquests and how he’s going to take over and become head of the family. Every word out of his mouth about my princess is degrading. This guy doesn’t give a single fuck about her happiness. He just wants her for her money. He goes on and on until I can’t take it anymore.
I stand, every fiber of my being on fire.
“Tyler,” one of his friends asks, “are you still seeing that chick from Lake Chelcuya? The one who loves anal?”
“You know it.” Tyler grins. “Told Mira I had to work late, and she bought it. Fucking clueless!”
For some reason, his eyes turn toward me, but I’m already moving—
Out the door and into the night.
I’m gasping for breath as I stride to my bike. It takes all my will to unclench my fists. It was nearly impossible to get my ass up and out of there, but I knew if I stayed, I’d end up doing a night in jail for assault and battery.
Rage runs through my veins like lava. The son of a bitch is cheating on her, my princess. Not only that, but he’s openly bragging and laughing about it too, as if he knows he’ll never face any consequences. And why would he? He mentioned Mira coming with a dowry, so it’s pretty clear he’s just in it for the money and the power.
But does Mira know that?
I pace outside the bar beside my bike, taking deep breaths, fighting to calm my heartrate. I’m walking a tightrope. My eyes keep moving to the door. They’re still inside, still drinking, still bellowing loudly like their money makes them untouchable.
It would be so easy to just walk right in there and tear them all apart. They wouldn’t be able to even put up a fight. It would be no contest. I was built on the street, like a piece of iron hammered into the shape of a sword. Those guys were raised behind desks and in air-conditioned mansions, raised to believe they’re better than the rest of us.
But that’s not the right move here. I have a better plan.
I don’t care that Mira’s engaged. Not anymore.
She’s engaged to a liar, a cheater, a man who absolutely does not deserve her. She deserves a man who will worship her, ruin himself for her, treat her like the princess she is. And I’m that guy.
So instead of storming back inside and handling things with my fists, I step into the shadows and wait. I can practically feel the steam coming off my head as I fight back thoughts of Tyler putting his hands on Mira. Has she let him yet? Or is she holding out for marriage? She is only eighteen, and it’s not like Tyler is the most charming guy in the world.
No, I believe she’s innocent. That sweet valley between her thighs is still unclaimed and will be mine. It’s only a matter of time.
Two hours later, Tyler and his crew stumble out of Jayne’s and into the night air, laughing like drunks, vaping like tools, and strutting around like they own the land the bar was built on. Tyler pulls out his phone and sends a text while muttering something about “keeping the fiancée happy.”
More lies.
My pulse beats heavily as I watch him from the darkness, eyes narrow and jaw clenched tight.
“I’ll get an…fucking Uber home,” he mutters to his friends as they hop in an Audi. Drunk sons of bitches will probably end up killing themselves or someone else.
I wait until Tyler’s ride shows up, get on my bike, and follow. Quietly. Carefully. Keeping a good distance as he heads through downtown and then up the road toward Lake Chelcuya. Ten minutes later, he stops in front of a quaint little cottage on the edge of town. A blonde opens the door wearing a robe with clearly nothing else underneath. She kisses him like she hasn’t seen him in a month and moves his hands to her ass.