Page 12 of Monstrous Urges
After my shower, I change into comfy clothes and head into the living room to go over notes for some meetings I have tomorrow. But the second my eyes land on that goddamn white couch, I’m instantly flooded with memories of its defilement.
Again, I’m not angry. I mean, we’re obviously over, but I don’t really give a shit about Steven cheating on me.
But still: there’s no fucking way I’m staying here tonight.
“Good morning, Ms. Crown!” Amelia, my kick-ass secretary, smiles and follows me into my office.
“Morning, Amelia,” I say absently. I’m putting on a brave face, but inside, I’m exhausted. I mean I went to bed three hours later than usual—in the room I booked late at the Soho Grand Hotel.
…Where I screamed into my pillow with my hands between my legs, reliving every single insane, brutal second of my depraved encounter in the woods.
“You’re looking amazing this morning.”
Amelia is a total kiss-ass sometimes, and I love her for it. Even if she’s totally full of shit this morning. I emphatically do not look anything approaching “amazing” right now, and we both know it.
“Thanks,” I smile dryly. “New Pilates instructor this morning.”
“Well, damn, lady,” she grins. “Go get it.” She clears her throat, dropping right into business mode. “So, pretty packed schedule today. You’ve got a meeting with Thomas Koppelman at ten to go over strategy for his corporate takeover. Then lunch with the team from CopperLine Biotech—I got you reservations at Atera, or you could do your usual Per Se?—”
“Atera is great, thanks, Amelia.”
She nods, barely looking up from her tablet as she taps away. “You wanted to sit in on the Whitlock deposition at one-thirty. Oh, and Gavan Tsarenko and his people will be in at four to sit down with you and Alistair to talk transition with Gabriel being gone now.”
I grimace. Yeah, that’s going to take some getting used to. But before I can delve too deeply into my own thoughts concerning one of my best friends and firm partners leaving Crown and Black, something pings in my head.
“Oh, shit, that reminds me. I need you to create an analytics breakdown of these…”
I turn to grab the file folder I purposefully left in the middle of my desk yesterday. But when my eyes land on empty space, my brow furrows.
“Did you…” I glance back at Amelia. “There was a folder on my desk…”
She blinks. “I didn’t see anything this morning when I unlocked your office. No one’s been in here, either, obviously.”
I frown. “You sure? Blue folder with the very professional ‘Gabriel’s bullshit’ written on the cover?”
She smirks briefly, then shakes her head. “Nothing I saw, Ms. Crown. Maybe you moved them last night?”
My brow cocks. “No, I definitely left it on my desk yesterday before Fumi and I went to that meeting.”
Aka: cocktails.
“Oh, I mean later. When you came in late last night.”
My eyes snap to hers in confusion.
“Sorry, what?”
Amelia’s brow furrows. “You… You were here, Ms. Crown. In the office. Maybe that’s when?—”
“No, I wasn’t.”
I definitely wasn’t. I was in the woods letting a stranger rub my pussy with a fucking knife, because I’m goddamn crazy.
And after that I was showering at my apartment, and then booking a suite at the Soho Grand.
Amelia gives me an odd look. “You definitely key-carded in. It was on the log this morning when I clocked in.” She smiles a slightly confused smile. “It was late, too! One-thirty, or something. I can check if you want.”
I slowly shake my head, a horrible feeling settling over me.