All Chapters of His Dark Asset (R18): Chapter 51 - Chapter 60

"Miss Monroe." Her voice dripped with ice. "The reception area is not a dining lounge. If you insist on parading your presence around this floor, take your trash to your own desk."I leaned forward, planting both hands flat on her leather blotter.The proximity forced her to shrink back into her heavy chair.Up close, without the safety of her computer monitor separating us, she could see the split seam of my lower lip, the dark rings beneath my eyes, and the absolute lack of hesitation in them."I know what you did, Margaret," I said, my voice low and smooth.Margaret’s jaw tightened, a tiny hitch catching in her throat before she recovered. "I have no idea what you're—""Don't insult my intelligence!" I cut in, leaning down an inch further until she was trapped in my shadow. "I heard you whispering into your receiver all morning, making sure the lower levels knew exactly what I was wearing and where I spent the night. You practically sent an engraved invitation to Chloe and her litt

VERITYThe luxury apartment in Gramercy Park wasn't a sanctuary. It was a holding cell.I paced the living room, wrapped in an oversized cashmere throw that smelled faintly of detergent citrus.Every step I took sent a sharp lance of agony radiating outward from between my thighs, up through my pelvis, and into the base of my spine.My ribs throbbed where his hands had anchored me to that leather bench. My left shoulder was a swollen, angry knot of dark violet skin crowned where his teeth had broken through.I couldn't sit or lie down.The events from last night replayed in my mind every time I closed my eyes. I had given him everything. I had let him strip away every scrap of my dignity, my body, and my pride.And what had the great Adrian Sutherland done once he was satisfied?He had washed his hands, buttoned up an eight-thousand-dollar suit, and walked out the door without a single backward glance."You're just a job," I laughed mockingly. "You're an intern he broke to prove he co

VERITYThe silence that followed was suffocating.I looked at Margaret staring at me. The icy disapproval was gone, replaced by an expression of unadulterated triumph. Her thin lips were curled into a wide, venomous smirk, her eyes glittering with the satisfaction of watching an insect get crushed beneath a boot.She knew.Margaret knew all along.No wonder she kept reminding me of my place.The air in my lungs burned and a violent, catastrophic wave of nausea surged from my gut into my throat.The room spun in sickening, kaleidoscopic circles, the pristine desk where I had sat and played the professional assistant while a married billionaire used me as his private whore.I am the other woman.The thought was a physical blow.I am the cheap, disposable piece of trash they whisper about in the elevators. I am the girl he uses to take out his sick urges before he goes home to his wife.I clamped both hands over my mouth, stifling the muffled, strangled sob tearing through my throat an

VERITYMy ears rang with static and every drop of blood in my body turned to frost.He was right.He'd never promised me anything. He'd called himself a ruin, and I'd foolishly thought his ruin was poetic instead of vile.I was just his mistress. The side piece he kept in an apartment to vent his sickness.Adrian leaned in until his face was inches from mine, his eyes completely black with fury."You have absolutely no concept of the blood you are playing with," he snarled. "I kept my distance to keep you breathing. But you couldn't stand that, could you? You had to be a senseless, immature little girl throwing a tantrum for attention."He leaned closer, the heat of his anger radiating off his skin. "And the sickest part is that I actually let you do it. I let a reckless, stupid child drag me right into the slaughterhouse because I couldn't keep my hands off you.""Keep your fucking protection!" I drove both fists hard into his chest, fighting his crushing weight. "You want to call me

VERITYI opened my eyes to the merciless skyline.My body throbbed, and the violet fingerprints Adrian had stamped around my throat felt like an iron choker while the bite mark on my shoulder burned.I was twenty years old and had clawed my way out of the slums.I had survived Edwin Monroe's drunken rages, learning early that love was just an excuse men used before they broke you.And now I was caged by a corporate predator wrapped in an expensive suit—a man who nearly took me apart on a table just to silence his own demons.If I stayed here, I wasn't fighting him, but rather I was surrendering.I was accepting the collar, and letting Adrian prove that a few harsh words, a legal trap, and a platinum credit card were all it took to keep a stray on a leash.I stood up slowly as every bruised muscle in my pelvis and back pulled tight in protest.I kicked off my heels, leaving them abandoned by the door, and walked on bare feet toward the floor-to-ceiling glass.The reflection staring bac