Page 18 of Hate to Love You

But there were no rumors about her. No whispers either. It was almost like she wasn’t there. So, when the couple disappeared from the building, it was like she’d never existed.

How could a girl that pretty be that invisible?

She was stunningly beautiful, even in those frumpy sweaters she always wore. Which I never understood, as then I’d see her little twat of a husband parading her around some party in some form-fitting evening gown that left little to the imagination.

It didn’t make any sense.

My phone pings on the counter, and I pick it up, realizing I have a text from Pasha.

8:24am:

Kitchen is clean. Got in touch with the clan, everyone will be there. But heads up, Polina’s riled up about something. You’ve been warned.

Great. That’s just what I fucking need.

Tossing the towel on the floor in the bathroom, I make my way into the bedroom, where Caesar, my purebred German Shepherd sits on his bed, staring at me eagerly. With one short whistle he immediately dashes across the room, and sits before me, nudging my hand with his long nose and awaiting my command.

“Good boy,” I smile, kneeling down to give him pets. “Let me get dressed, and we’ll go, okay?”

I snap my fingers and motion for him to return to his bed, and he obeys without complaint. As he always does.

If only my men were that fucking easy.

But even after I select an outfit, I find my mind drifting back to The Brunette’s haunting brown eyes.

Last night’s dream wasn’t the exception.

In fact, it was a regular, if not weekly occurrence. She’s the specter that occasionally stalks my subconscious, and if I had to wager a guess as to why, I’d say it’s because she was going to be my exception.

I actually wanted her to be my one exception, to one of the few rules I govern myself by.

The night of the Children’s Benefit I’d finally had enough of restraining and wanting and was ready to take her for myself. To be honest, I didn’t care if she wanted me back, or if her husband objected. I had ways of dealing with both of those little hiccups, and that night I wasn’t above using any and all means to claim her for myself.

And the look in those brown eyes told me that on some level, she wanted me too.

I decided I was going to break my own deep-seated rule about fucking with someone’s marriage. I was going to have her if it was the last thing I did.

Because I just didn’t care anymore.

I watched her all night, biding my time and inching my way closer to her with every minute that ticked by.

But then she just disappeared.

And not just from the gala, but from existence entirely. I stopped seeing her in the hallways, I stopped seeing her at the gym in our building. She was just gone.

Could I have looked harder for her? Sure. But it rattled me to my core, as if perhaps my willingness to discard my own morality had upset the universe…so the universe stepped in and took her from me.

Fuck the universe. And fuck this shit.

I’ve dwelt in fantasyland enough today. I have real problems to solve that require my full attention. I can’t be distracted by the ghost of some mystery woman. No matter how sexy.

She’s just a woman.

And as if confirming my acknowledgement, my phone pings in my pocket as I fasten my new favorite watch around my wrist. Another text has come in, and this time it’s from a number I’ve apparently labeled “AccounTits.”

8:57am

AccounTits: My pussy is still sore. Among other things. But I’m ready for round two anytime, Mr. A.