Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127201 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Since the day I met him, he told me he wasn’t a good man, that I deserve someone better. That I should run from him. But perhaps it’s the other way around. Perhaps he should be running from me.
Letting out a shaky breath, I lift my gaze back to Zeph. He’s completely shattered, and it hits me just how selfish I’m being. Here I am worrying about my own guilt when Zeph has just lost the man he called his best friend for thirteen years. I know things have changed a lot over the past few weeks, but that doesn’t take away the years they had together. That can’t just be stripped away.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, getting back to my feet and crossing the apartment, sitting down on his other side. “This isn’t the outcome I was hoping for.”
“Don’t be sorry, Tilly,” he tells me, dropping his hand to my thigh and giving a gentle squeeze before removing it. “After what he did to you, you should want him dead. Hell, I did. I wanted to fucking kill him myself. I just . . . Now that he is, I don’t know how to feel about it. But this is right. If Dad didn’t find you in that cellar, he would have killed you. This is for the best.”
My lips press into a hard line. It’s clear that he’s very torn on how to feel, which is only natural, but luckily for him, Chloe loves to talk through her feelings. Once they’re alone, I don’t doubt that she’ll deep dive into that shit until he’s a sobbing mess, rocking in the corner of the room. But then she’ll put him right back together until he’s almost brand new.
I nod, desperately wanting to lighten the mood. “I, uhhhh . . . bought a new shirt.”
Zeph groans as Chloe fights a smile. “Do I even want to know?”
“Oh yeah,” I say, getting up and finding my bag that I dropped somewhere among the wreckage. “This is a good one.”
Grabbing it off the floor, I dump the bag on the table that’s now the right way up. I search through the endless piles of crap inside before finding the little package that arrived in the mail yesterday.
A wicked grin stretches across my face, and I tear into the package before pulling out the new slogan shirt. I hold it up and grin to myself as I check it out. It’s absolutely perfect. Probably my favorite overall.
I pull the shirt over my head, making sure it fits properly before finally turning around and showing it off. “Whatdoyathink?” I rush out.
Chloe snorts a laugh, slapping a hand over her face as Zeph narrows his gaze, reading the shirt out loud. “I’m chunky because every time I—” He gives me a hard stare, clearly not impressed. “Get fucked.”
“Don’t even think about it, Zephyr Di Rozé. As your daddy has more than taught you, if you’re going to do something, then do it right. Finish what you started. Read the whole thing.”
Zeph glares at Chloe as she struggles to maintain composure, and seeing that I’m not about to give in, he lets out a loud huff. “You know I hate you, right?”
“Read the shirt, Zephyr.”
His shoulders slump, but nonetheless, his eyes start to sparkle with silent laughter, and he starts reading right from the beginning. “I’m chunky because every time I fuck your dad, he makes me a sandwich.”
“Mmmmm,” I say as he continues to glare. “It’s like music to my ears.”
Then, not wanting Caesar to miss out on the big reveal, I turn myself toward the secret camera hidden high in the apartment, overlooking both the kitchen and living room, before pulling out my phone and shooting off a quick message.
Tilly: Hey, you big pervert. Stop jerking off and check the cameras. I’ve got a surprise for you.
30
TILLY
Ismile as I make my way down the stairs and into the small reception area at Vixen, butterflies swarming through the pit of my stomach. I don’t know why I feel so nervous about this, though I’m starting to wonder if this is just the standard reaction my body will have every time I meet Caesar here.
“Oh, Miss Tilly,” Rebecca, the sweet receptionist with the wild younger years, says with a wide smile. “I was starting to wonder if something had happened to you. I haven’t seen you for—” She cuts herself off as she takes a closer look at me, understanding dawning in her eyes as her gaze shifts over the fading bruises lingering on my skin. “Oh, honey. I’m so sorry. There I go, always opening my big mouth. Is everything alright, dear? I hope you’re not in any trouble.”
I give her a soft smile, her welcoming nature making me feel as though I could sit right here with her all night and tell her everything that’s happened over the past few weeks. Though something tells me that she’s the type to pull a pink gun out of her purse, fix a balaclava over her head, and insist that we go deal with my problems.