Semua Bab These Reckless Vows: The Billionaire's Bride: Bab 11 - Bab 20

HIM ~~~ It has been 4 years, and still, I wake up with Jade on my mind. She runs in my thoughts and makes all my memories feel like bliss. Like hell. Jade. The reason I still want to live. Jade. The very person I want to kill. It has to be me that ends her pretty little life. I wonder what she thinks when she remembers that night. Does her pussy throb with how good I gave it to her? The little “O” I made her mouth form as she threw back her head of red hair for me? How she almost came all over my fingers? Or does she only remember after? The men I brought to take her away? It needed to happen because of what she did. Does she even remember what she did? The things she took from me with the same hands she used to caress me? Likely not. Perfect little Jade who could never remember anything she’s done wrong. I never stopped looking for her. There isn’t an area in Pennsylvania that I don’t know. Her underwear is still in my pocket, the scent of it even 4 years later dri

Ava ~~~ I can't stop thinking about the car that almost hit me. There's a familiarity to it that reminds me of the past. But what? My thoughts are silenced by a thick cloud of hairspray my stylist, Brianna, seems to be using to try and kill me. As I cough she tsks, “Get used to it, Miss Allard. You’ll be in my dressing room more often from now on.” Oliver drove me straight to the luxury studio, one owned by Sinclair’s family. It looks more like a hotel than a studio with high ceilings and chandeliers dropping down from them. Brianna looks like the sort of person who belongs in the styling chair, not the person who should be doing the styling; with flawless Carmel skin and a sleek auburn bob that frames her heart-shaped face and suits her warm brown eyes. But as the cloud of hairspray clears, I look in the mirror and realize I might belong in this chair just as much as her. “Is that… me?” Her reflection grins, “ Yes ma'am. You're looking at the new and improved Ava

Ava ~~~ I want to lean on the wall next to me to catch my breath, but when I stretch out my hand to rest on the surface, I realise it's not there. It's only when I turn to my left that I see the four walls of this house are so far apart that I can run to the other side. Only the expensive marble floors would make me slip as I moved. In the middle of the huge living room, there's a marble Greek-like statue surrounded by the softest-looking white couches I've ever seen. This is all overlooked by huge windows that show the expansive garden, which may as well be a field. It’s so beautiful, yet I can’t truly appreciate that with this fear that's still rattling in me. The only thing I fully feel is shock that Sinclair did this house by himself. Sinclair. The reminder of him knocks the sense back into me. I wouldn't have seen that car if not for him. If he had just done the right thing and brought me home himself. Fuming, I stomp towards the large winding staircase. As I go

Ava ~~~ When my mum was diagnosed with cancer, she’d only told me, “Huh? Look how two days can change everything.” She was trying to joke for my sake, of course, but there was no denying the truth of the statement. Just two days before, we’d all been in the yard: me, Mum, and Dad, laughing while Dad grilled some steaks. It was also the day she gave me the butterfly necklace. “It didn’t cost much,” she shrugged when I told her it was too expensive, her short red hair blowing in the breeze. She didn’t realize it would be priceless to me. Dad took a “business trip” that night, kissing Mum on the cheek as she smiled, and then coming over to kiss me the same way, saying, “Whatever happens, Ava, you deserve the whole world.” I thought it was just cute, and without realizing it was a goodbye, I stretched up to hug him. It was the last hug I ever gave him. Mum fainted the next day when he’d stopped receiving her calls, and what we thought was the result of heartbreak turned o

Ava ~~~ I go still where I am, afraid if I move, another problem may fall on my head. Sinclair is wearing the same thing I am: a basic T-shirt and jeans, but I can see the outline of his muscled body through the shirt. If not for the mention of a problem, I might have let my mind wander to his shirtlessness. I sigh, settling into the seat before the huge breakfast spread that has been laid out for me. “Sinclair, I just woke up. Can we make problems an afternoon activity?” I’ve never been the type to joke around, certainly not like Oliver, but something in me wants to get the slightly vulnerable Sinclair I had yesterday, the one who held me and told me I’m brave. But he doesn’t even look at me, saying, “Genevive Garrish wants to interview us.” Genevive Garrish? I know I’ve heard that name before. As I spoon some fruit salad into my mouth, it hits me. “Hold on… Genevive Garrish as in The Garrish Late Night Show host?” Sinclair nods, still not looking at me. “The very same.”