Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 86322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86322 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 432(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 288(@300wpm)
Ash shook it off and sat back, crossing his arms. “Whatever. He’s an asshole and not worth my time,” he muttered.
The realization that he had not only spoken to Aspen in the past two weeks, but that she’d confided in him, sent my pulse thundering. Heat flushed through my veins until I feared I’d explode.
Aspen ignored my every message—my every call—but talked to this man.
Aspen ran from me without giving me a chance to repent, but listened to Ash.
Aspen left me, but not him.
More embarrassment over being excluded from her life—from being the man she leaned on—bled into frustrated resentment that pierced through my walls as if they were made of butter.
My lips parted, ready to impart a scathing response that reminded him that she was mine. Before I could unleash my ire against him, the door opened, and Hank Quinn entered—followed by Aspen.
“Lucian,” Hank greeted. “Welcome back.”
I stood to shake his hand, moving on autopilot as every cell in my body locked onto Aspen—the first glimpse I’d had of her in what felt like an eternity.
She wore a black Foo Fighters T-shirt with a fitted white skirt that fell below her knees, with a slit reaching impossibly high on her thigh. Her smooth skin teased me with glimpses from each step in her sky-high black heels.
She was power.
She was sin.
She was everything.
I held my breath, bracing for the moment she turned those warm, honey-colored eyes on me. My lungs locked tight as I waited—desperate for even the smallest clue in her gaze, anything that might tell me where we stood.
She took her time greeting every man in the room, stretching my wait into something almost cruel.
Any second now… any second.
I schooled my face into indifference, fists clenched hard at my sides—only for her to pass right over me, like I was nothing more than empty air.
She sat at the head of the table and flipped open her folder, diving right in, giving her focus to the four guys who hung on her every word while still managing to deliver glares my way in between.
I observed her in awe of her skill and capability, almost laughing as I thought back to when I had initially thought she was some spoiled princess who had risen to her position through nepotism. I couldn’t have been more wrong.
The entire meeting, I sat there starving for her attention—like a kid stuck in the back seat outside a bank, desperate to be noticed and handed a sucker, but too proud to ask for it.
The entire meeting, she acted as if I didn’t exist, and it sent me spinning between two extremes: so damn angry I was one second away from slamming my fists on the table and demanding she acknowledge me, and so painfully turned on by how effortlessly she commanded the room, earning the respect and focus of every man there.
I got so lost in that constant tug-of-war that the meeting was over before I even realized it had ended.
Hank shook my hand, thanking me for being interested enough in the company to observe meetings before chatting with the guys as they made their way toward the exit.
Good, with them focused on each other, Aspen had no choice but to face me. I watched her pack up her belongings and stand—clearly intent on leaving without acknowledging me at all.
I didn’t fucking think so.
Her deliberate indifference sent a rabid need clawing up my spine. I fell back into old habits, provoking her, knowing it would garner me a reaction.
“Nice of you to finally grace us with your presence, Miss Quinn.”
Other than freezing for a half-second, she didn’t react, not even bothering to spare me a glance. “Sorry,” she said, her voice as cold as ice. “I didn’t know Daire Holdings needed to approve my vacation time. Should I submit my paperwork to your company as well as mine?”
“Hardly,” I grumbled. “But as your fiancé, I think I deserve to know when you plan to disappear for two weeks.”
She scoffed. “There are a lot of things I’d hoped to be afforded as your fiancée that I didn’t receive.” She swung her tote over her shoulder and finally graced me with a look. The gaze she leveled was empty, glacial, so much cooler than the ice queen I’d witnessed before—and so much worse. “You’re the last person who should be commenting on what’s deserved and what isn’t. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have other meetings to attend.”
“Aspen,” I called, moving after her.
I barely made it two steps past the door before I hit a wall of muscle. Four men blocked the doorway, arms crossed, eyes hard—every inch of them daring me to try. I scanned them for a weakness, any opening I could force my way through, but the members of the band stood their ground, a united front with one clear purpose: