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Prince Charming Page 5
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“Nothing you need to worry about,” I assure her with a brief smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I need to run along.” So I can track Ash back down, pry her from Perry’s arms, and dance with her knowing I painted her pretty face with come not but a couple of hours ago. “There’s someone I need to see.”
“Actually,” Mother says, her long fingernails biting into my bicep over my tuxedo jacket. “Stay, darling. We have some catching up to do.”
The predatory glint in my mother’s stare has my hackles rising. I know who it is before I even turn around because I recognize the perfume. I pin my mother with an accusatory glare. Her charming smile is in place, but I don’t miss the calculation behind her pleasant features, and it doesn’t involve me. Well, not directly anyway.
This isn’t a betrayal.
It’s a strategic move.
Swiveling around, I face the firing squad with the coolest expression I can muster.
My ex.
The one who ruined me when I was soft and weak and fucking vulnerable.
I really should thank her. She created the man I am today. Because of her, I forged iron around my heart, buried it beneath granite, and sealed it with a lock bigger than the fucking moon. I’m hard because she made me hard.
And not in the good way either.
But it’s because of her that I am forced to deny myself certain things. Like Ash Elliott. Sure, I have her in every sense of the word, but not the way I’d like. I don’t own all of her, not yet. Because I can’t. I never can. The woman before me is proof of that.
Meredith is stunning perfection as always—silky blonde hair, paid-for tits, tight red evening gown that hugs her hourglass figure. It’s not like I haven’t seen her since our teenage breakup. Our families run in the same circles. It’s just difficult seeing her in our domain. As though she belongs.
She never belonged, and my parents knew it.
“Meredith,” I greet, my tone cold and uncaring. “Lovely seeing you here.”
Duncan Baldridge, her husband whom I very much enjoy fucking over on the regular, juts his hand out and shakes mine. “Happy birthday, man. We were surprised by the invite, but we wouldn’t miss it for the world.”
Because who doesn’t want to feast with the lions?
They’re all here. The hyenas like the Mannfords and the snakes like the Baldridges. I’m sure lurking not far from the compound, the Morelli rats are salivating and wishing they were here too, gobbling up whatever crumbs we drop at our feet.
I catch Keaton’s smirk from nearby, his rich girlfriend hanging off his arm, dripping in diamonds. I’ve often wondered why Mother plays this game with him. Positioning him with another successful family. Because it really fucking failed with me and Meredith. I’d thought I’d done the right thing dating someone in our social circle, but also falling for her too. In our world, it’s one or the other in these arrangements. Convenience or love, but never both. Mother gladly exposed what a traitorous bitch Meredith was, saving me from a horrible mistake. She hasn’t tried to set me up with anyone or push me toward any women since. Perry came along, and she let him be as well.
But Keaton . . .
Tearing my stare from my brother, I glance over at my mother, my brow raised in question. Mother steps forward, looping her arm around mine as she smiles at Meredith.
“You’ve had work, dear,” Mother purrs. “Fancy.”
Meredith preens, making sure to bounce slightly so we all see exactly where she had her work done. “Thank you, Mrs. Constantine. It was a birthday gift from my Duncan.”
Duncan, the dumb fuck, puffs his chest out like he performed the goddamn surgery himself rather than giving her the black AMEX card.
“Is your doctor taking on new patients?” Mother asks, her polite tone masking her true intentions.
“I think she’d make room for a Constantine,” Meredith gushes. “Dr. Mannford is a friend of mine. I’ll put in a good word.”
“Dr. Mannford?” Mother gasps. “Well, what a lovely coincidence. She’s a guest here tonight. Perhaps we should let the boys discuss whatever it is boys do and go have a chat with the talented doctor.”
Meredith pokes out her bottom lip in a move that once had me vowing to do just about anything for her. “Promise we can catch up soon, Winston.” She flashes me a wide grin before leaning in to press a kiss to my cheek, her new, talk-of-the-party tits pushing into my chest. “Happy birthday.”
I refrain from rolling my eyes and keep my expression cool. As they walk away, my eyes lock onto Ash from across the room. Her hands are on her hips, and she’s scowling after Meredith.
Jealous.
Cute.
I can work with that.
“Duncan,” I say, turning to the ruddy-faced, prematurely balding guy who rubs me the wrong way every goddamn time I look at him. “I’ve been meaning to meet up with you.”
“Oh?”
“I’m sad to say, but I made an error and let the Baldridge building go.”
He blinks in confusion. “My building?”
It’s mine, motherfucker.
“When you own as many as we do, sometimes things get lost in the shuffle.” I frown at him. “I hope you’re not angry.”
He’s more than angry.
He’s volcanic.
His cheeks are redder than usual, and his thick neck is splotchy. I can practically see the steam pouring from his ears.
“How do we get it back?” he growls.
We.
Dumb fuck.
“This is where it gets terribly embarrassing,” I say, pretending to wince. “I mistakenly sold it to a Morelli.”
His face pales. “Y-You sold my family building to that trash?”
“Like I said, my mistake.” I hold my palms up in a placating gesture. “But, as you know, nothing is final in this world. If you want something badly enough, you fight for it.”
My eyes catch Ash’s again. She’s still glaring daggers at Duncan’s bitchy wife.
“How do we get my building back?” Duncan asks, tugging at his bowtie. “Who knows what the Morellis will do with the tenants there. We have to take action.”
Duncan forgets he’s a tenant too, and no matter who’s on the deed, the building will always be mine.
“How well do you know the other businesses in that square?”
He straightens his spine. “Well.”
“Good.” I give him a conspiratorial smile. “How about we sneak off and talk business?”
His eyes widen as though I’ve offered him a golden goose egg.
No, fuckface, I’m using you.
“Lead the way, Constantine.”
6
Ash
The woman works the room as though she belongs here. As though she’s a Constantine. Sure, she even looks the part with her silky blonde hair and gorgeous body, but I can see right through her façade. At first, I was peeved off at the way she was looking at Winston. Like he belonged to her. But then, I sensed the disgust from him.
“Meredith Baldridge.”
Perry’s deep words only solidify what I saw in Winston’s gaze. Not just disgust but regret and betrayal. She’s the one who broke Winston’s heart when he had one. Seeing her close to him, touching him, was enough to have me wanting to flaunt the fact that I have him now, and I’m not going to carelessly discard him like she once did.
“Come on,” Perry says, “let’s dance.”
He tugs me onto the dance floor, and I quickly push away my irritation, giving in to reciprocating Perry’s silly grin. Truth is, I like Perry. Keaton and Tinsley too. Winston is a prickly cactus most of the time, and I really like him. My stomach muscles tighten with anxiety. Not only are my stepbrothers harassing me, but I also have to figure out a way to deal with Leo Morelli, because he’s not just harassing me. Leo is after Constantine blood, which means Winston and his siblings would be affected.
I can’t let that happen.
I won’t let that happen.
Even if it sc
ares the shit out of me. I’ll think of something. I have to.
Ting! Ting! Ting! Ting!
“Shit,” Perry curses. “It’s Mother. Toast time.”
One look at the large clock on the wall and I realize we’ve danced the evening away. I pull from Perry’s hold, grabbing a handful of my dress, and hurry past the people crowding toward wherever it is their mother is about to give her toast. Along the way to the corridor, I spy Winston talking to some guy. His eyes latch onto mine a second before he starts my way. Not stopping to wait on him, I rush down the hallway, nearly running into someone as they exit the bathroom. Barely, I manage to sidestep them, but the wobble has me losing my balance. As soon as the strap on the shoe I’m wearing snaps, I realize I’ve broken it. A few more steps and I learn I can’t even keep it on my foot. Quickly, I kick it off, never losing stride. Since the other heel is tall, I run lopsided down the rest of the hall and up the stairs. When I push into Tinsley’s room, she’s waiting, her face and hair party perfect.
“I’m so sorry,” I blurt out. “I lost track of time.”
Tinsley tosses her shirt and shimmies out of her shorts while I fumble with the zipper on the dress. I manage to yank it down and step out of it but not before tripping over the material and falling on my ass.
“Calm down,” Tinsley says with a laugh. “It wouldn’t be the first time I was late to a party. Breathe, Ash.”
“I broke your shoe,” I grumble, showing her my bare foot.
“I have others,” she assures me with a twinkle in her blue eyes. “Did you at least have fun?”
My mind immediately goes to the pantry where Winston and I behaved very badly. Crimson licks over my bare skin, heating my cheeks. “Lots.”
“Good. Don’t be a stranger.” She disappears into her giant closet and a few moments later, she returns a few inches taller having put on heels. “Nice meeting you.” With a quick wave, she slips out of the bedroom, leaving me alone.
I’m still sitting on the floor in my strapless bra and panties with one shoe on, my heart pounding in my chest when I hear a soft click. Snapping my head toward the door, I let out a breath of relief to see Winston standing there in all his villainous glory. He holds up my shoe.
“Lose something, Cinderelliott?”
“Don’t you have to do toast time with Mommy?”
His eyes darken as they peruse my partly naked form. “Have a stumble?”
“You missed an epic fall. One you’d have paid good money for too.”
He tosses the shoe aside as he prowls my way. My skin heats for a whole different reason than earlier from my embarrassing fall. Winston isn’t a match of lust tossed on my papery thin resolve to be a good girl; he’s a bomb with a short fuse, exploding whenever I’m near. I have to crane my neck back to see his tall form as he stands over me, a gorgeous golden god whose interest has fallen to a mere mortal.
“I like seeing you like this,” he rumbles, his voice a deep timbre that rattles its way through my every bone.
“Looking like your sister?” I throw back.
His nostrils flare, and I laugh because I quite enjoy riling him up sometimes. He squats down in front of me, raising his hand like he might cradle my cheek. I lean toward his open palm and then cry out in surprise when he yanks my wig off. My eyes latch onto his lust-filled ones as he begins to roughly pluck pins from my hair, pulling strands from my scalp. Even though it stings, I like his undivided attention as he transforms me from someone meant to look like his sister back to his lover.
“What am I to you?” I ask, biting down on one corner of my bottom lip, searching his intense stare.
“Mine.”
Pleasure floods through me, pooling in my pelvis. “Your what?”
“You’re not rich enough for those words, little girl.”
“I have a great job. I could earn the money pretty quick I’m sure.”
He smirks. “Is that so?”
“I’m a hard worker, and I’ve learned to negotiate my salary.”
“Why can’t you just accept that you’re mine and that’s it?”
“Because you say it like one of your buildings. Or your cars. Or your watches.” I wince when he pulls out pins close to my face. “I’m more than your property, Win, and you know it.”
His blue eyes harden slightly. It’s a punch to the gut, making me feel delusional. I’m positive he’s not all granite and ice. Sometimes there’s warmth. Sometimes he’s human. I just have to work on pulling that side out of him more.
“Needy,” he grumbles after he tosses the last pin away and scratches his fingers along my scalp, messing my hair up. “So fucking needy.”
“Most girlfriends are.”
“You’re not my girlfriend.”
“Basically.”
He snorts. “We fuck, and I pay you to do demeaning shit. If you’re my girlfriend, that makes me an asshole.”
Apparently, I’m falling for one.
“Since when do you care about being an asshole?” I challenge. “Say it. Say, ‘Ash Elliott is my girlfriend.’”
“No.”
I make a face at him, dramatically rolling my eyes. “Whatever. I was willing to pay for it.”
Would we be anything if we removed the money that binds us?
You can’t purchase chemistry. You can’t put a price on effortless conversation. I believe we can be. One day I’ll prove it to him.
“You didn’t make that much money downstairs.”
“I was going to barter.”
His eyes darken. “I’ll think up a fitting trade.”
“I’ll be ready.”
He rises to his feet and then pulls me to mine. I let out a squeal when he throws me over his shoulder as though I weigh nothing, smacking my bare thigh hard. “I don’t have time for this game, but rest assured, Cinderelliott, it will continue.”
“Where are we going?” I demand as soon as he opens the bedroom door, my heart freezing in my chest.
“As much as I’d love to parade you around the party like this, I don’t think Mother would approve. I’m taking you to my room here on the compound, and you’ll wait for me where we’ll continue our negotiations soon.”
“I need my bag.” I wriggle and try to point toward the sitting chair. “There.”
He smacks my ass again, because he’s a damn sadist and likes to hear me howl, and saunters over to it. After snagging it up, he totes me out of Tinsley’s room and down the hallway. We eventually wind up in a room that is decidedly Winston’s.
Dark navy walls.
Rich, modern wood flooring.
Sleek furniture and minimal décor.
It’s cold and masculine, but somehow warms me straight to my core because his room here smells like him. He tosses me on the bed and sets my bag on the floor.
“I’ll be back,” he growls, his gaze sweeping over my breasts that have nearly fallen out of the top of the cups of my bra after our little jaunt. “Be ready for me.”
He turns on his heel and starts for the door. Before he leaves, I call out, stopping him.
“Happy birthday, boyfriend.”
His laugh barks out of him, warming me to my core. He flips me the bird and leaves without another word.
I grin like a damn idiot.
I’m in too deep with this man.
My lashes flutter as fingertips dance over my ribs. I open my eyes to discover a shirtless Winston stretched out beside me on the bed, his head propped up on his arm as he bores his stare into me. He’s unusually quiet and seems to be studying me, so I take the moment to openly look at him. His dark, golden blond hair is no longer styled to perfection but damp from a recent shower. I fixate on his full lips that are usually spouting off cruel things but feel so good when they’re on my flesh. Reaching up, I brush my fingertips over his mouth. He abandons my ribs to clutch onto my wrist, holding me in place.
“Are you okay?” I ask, frowning at him.
He parts his lips, sucking three of my fingers into his mou
th. When he bites down rather painfully, I knee him in the thigh. His teeth release me, and he flashes his devilishly handsome but still super evil grin that promises torment.
“I’m fine now.” He grips my thigh, hauling me closer. Then, his thumb traces over the Sharpie words that still remain on my stomach. I shiver at his touch. “Tell me everything.”
My blood runs cold at his words. I’m disgusted and horrified at the way my stepbrothers treated me when they destroyed my dress, robbed me, and threatened me. Then, seeing Leo Morelli was the icing on the cake.
“Manda saw this,” I say, gesturing to where he’s back to stroking my stomach. “Flipped out. Claimed I was going to destroy the family.” I give a one-shouldered shrug. “I disgust her.”
The way his heated gaze bores into me, I know for a fact Winston feels the exact opposite.
“Then, she left me with them.” I swallow down my emotions, willing myself not to cry. “They mentioned Harvard.”
Winston’s eyes narrow. “I warned them. I don’t make threats I don’t carry out.”
“Well, they blame me. Said I made you do it.”
He’s tense, but his touch is soft as he strokes my stomach. “Then what?”
“They stole all my cash. Forced me to unlock my phone and hand over my laptop password.” Tears threaten, and I blink them away. “Took all the money in my account.”
Winston is deadly still, the only signs of his emotions are the continuous ticking muscle on his jaw and the pulsating vein on his brow. He’s great at seeming cool and collected when inside he’s raging. The way his blue eyes burn into me, I’m practically scalded by his fury.
“Go on,” he clips out. “Tell me what else.”
“Held me down, cut my dress off, and threw me in the shower.” A tear leaks out, running down my cheek and clinging to my jaw.
He reaches up and swipes at the tear, collecting it on his thumb before bringing it to his full lips. I track his movement as he sucks away the salty wetness. “Then what?”
I want to tell him about Leo Morelli, but Leo is different than my bully stepbrothers. Leo is dangerous. He’s a Morelli, and from what I’ve gathered, they’re like the mafia or something. The last thing I need is Leo finding out I told Winston when he expressly demanded I don’t.