Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
And fuck Artem for distracting me into forgetting why I was here.
I was going to get this degree, even if I had to live in his gilded cage with his cameras while I did it.
He wanted to watch me? Fine.
He could watch me study into the early hours of every morning, and he could watch me win where he tried to make me fail.
"Ms. Zatasevo, if you ever come into my class unprepared again, I will have you removed."
"It won't happen again," I said, my chin up as I stared him straight in his beady little eyes.
His lip curled, clearly pissed he didn't get to break me, before he turned around and went on with his lecture—which had nothing to do with UNIDROIT Principles.
After class, I went straight back to the cage, not letting go of my anger until I closed the door and looked at the opulent room.
I took a moment to take comfort in the fact that the dreary lecture room probably matched the professor's home.
You could say whatever you liked about the quality of the American higher education system and top-notch colleges, but the fact was they didn't pay their professors a living wage.
For a moment, I wondered if that was where his anger came from.
He picked on me because I was the only one that would not get him fired when I called Daddy to complain.
Maybe he just needed to take out his hatred of his ugly, mundane life on someone.
I almost felt sorry for him for a second.
Then I remembered that his bullshit was not my problem.
The only thing that man was, was an obstacle in my path.
Looking around the apartment, I felt a sense of calm for a moment.
It really was perfect except for those blinking red lights on the cameras.
The reminder that he was watching me shattered the calm the apartment gave me.
He just had to ruin the ambiance in such a blatant way.
I went to one of the smaller sitting rooms, got on a chair, and turned the cameras face down.
If Artem had a problem with it, he could bring it up to me.
Or better yet, he could fix it himself.
I spread out my books and got to work.
It only took me five minutes to realize UNIDROIT Principles were not in the reading material at all.
The professor was just a prick, and I got caught in his bluff.
Though I couldn't imagine it would have gone any other way even if I had done the reading.
The next three hours were spent going over last night's reading materials, taking meticulous notes by hand, and then going over my lecture notes again.
Confirming, yet again, that nothing he mentioned had anything to do with UNIDROIT Principles of International Commercial Contracts, which I now knew were non-binding rules that helped coordinate contract law across different legal systems.
The antique grandfather clock in the main room chimed seven, shaking me out of my study focus.
There was an hour before I was supposed to have dinner with Artem.
Part of me wanted to tell him no.
To stand my ground.
But I knew that would end with him coming over here, punishing me and fucking me again.
It would only further confuse my priorities, and I was still sore from the night before and this morning.
My stomach growled, and that settled it.
I was going to get dressed, let him feed me, and try to figure out how to get myself out of this.
Maybe if I spent some time with him, had a conversation, I could come up with a plan for the easiest way to get rid of him.
I wore a fitted little black dress.
It was beautiful, with a square neck, and hugged my curves perfectly, making the slight flare from my waist to my hips appear elegant, and my legs looked sexy as hell through the slit in the mid-length skirt.
I looked perfectly presentable, demure and sophisticated.
Like any other young lady out on the town for the night with a gentleman.
I wasn't a young lady, and I certainly wasn't going out with a gentleman.
This needed something more.
Something that would make me feel dangerous, in control, powerful.
In the bag of cosmetics, picked by whoever Artem had hired, were a few Urban Decay lipsticks.
I had heard of the brand, but was never given the kind of money that would allow me to pay twenty-eight dollars for a single lipstick.
I stared at the tubes, testing the colors on the back of my hand. A dusty pink, a pretty neutral, and then a bright red.
The neutral would be more chic, the pink was pretty and would be very respectful, but that red.
That red called to me.
It was the kind of red that a woman needed to be strong to wear, otherwise it would just wear her.
It screamed defiance and self-possession.
Plus, no man would kiss a woman with demon-red lipstick on, not if he didn’t want to wear it himself. It would be my armor, my shield, my line in the sand, against any further intimacy with Artem.