My Home Fucking Left

“Spencer.”

He threw his head backward, laughing shortly before looking back at her again, his eyes filled with resentment and anger that she had never witnessed before.

“You must be craving for someone else’s touch,” he sneered. “Tell me, who is it, hmm? Is it one of those pot-belly men you want to spend the rest of your life with? Or a rich billionaire that would provide you servants and huge mansions. You want to go to them as always. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Spencer!”

“What? I’m telling the truth. You don’t have to deny it, Bree. Tell me, where are they? You should be a spoiled billionaire’s housewife instead of an FBI agent.” Spencer chuckled. “Or don’t tell me that they dumped your ass for not taking their dick so well.”

“Spencer, you…you can’t say things like this.” All Bree could do was say his name and silently plead with him to stop hurting her with his words. She shook her head in denial, holding in the tears that threatened to stream down her cheeks.

“I can and I