Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
My blood ran cold at the realization.
Regardless, I felt strong and powerful, and there was a bounce in my step as I left the hotel. I even went to the front desk and had them add another four-figure tip to the bill for housekeeping, and asked them to call a car for me and bill it to the room.
The attendant at the front desk was very accommodating, and I headed back to my dorm in an Escalade.
The entire way back to campus, I felt like I was glowing, and I just couldn't stop basking in it.
I preferred to think it had nothing to do with the toe-curling orgasm of the night before and everything to do with my little financial revenge this morning.
It wasn't until I opened the door to my dorm room that everything came crashing down around me and I realized I hadn't won a goddamn thing.
I had been played.
Everything was gone.
The bed was stripped, and the room was completely sterile except for a single envelope on the bare mattress.
My heart pounded in my ears as I approached it. My hands shook so badly I could barely pick it up. Inside was a key with a note written in harsh, slanted handwriting.
You will stay here from now on. –A
An address was scribbled on the back of the envelope and just like that, I had lost any control I thought I had gained.
My breath caught in my throat as the implications sank in. He had been one step ahead the entire time.
While I was sleeping it off then ordering room service and reveling in my petty rebellion, he hadn’t been with another woman after all. It was worse.
He was dismantling my life.
There were still a few hours before my next class, so I went to check out my new apartment. Even if it was just to have a place to store my stuff until I figured out something else. After all, how could I be an independent woman when I lived in an apartment paid for by a man who not only killed my father, but thought that gave him the right to punish me like a child?
Although, he was paying for my tuition and dorm room. So was I ever really independent?
The less than childish things we had done the night before flashed through my mind and I pushed them out of my head before they affected me anymore.
Just because he gave me pleasure last night or bought me clothes, didn't mean a damn thing. All it meant was I was a red-blooded woman who had a love of expensive clothing and hormones that needed to be controlled.
The apartment was actually very close to campus, which was annoyingly convenient. The building was stunning and of course had a doorman who looked very familiar. I was positive that either he had been one of the men following me on campus or he had a twin. He greeted me with a bright smile, by name, pronounced correctly, and asked if I needed to be shown to my new apartment.
My pulse picked up. How many of Artem's men were watching me? How long had this been planned?
The paranoia settled over me like a cloak, and I found myself scanning every face, wondering if they too were reporting back to him.
I took a deep breath and suppressed the rage that had been slowly building in my chest. It wasn't his fault his boss was a dick.
"No, I'm sure I can find it. Thank you."
He smiled and actually tipped his goddamn hat as I headed to the elevator. The lobby was beautifully decorated, lavish and luxurious, and I was sure the amenities in the apartment were second to none.
I expected the apartment to look a lot like the hotel room; luxurious, expensive, cold. I couldn't have been more wrong. It was stunning, its elements and features reflective of the building's baroque style. Between the crown molding throughout and each room’s tasteful furniture, the apartment was beautiful but not so luxurious that you were afraid to sit on anything. The perfect blend of function and fashion.
It was my dream apartment.
That was why it was so insidious. Artem knew. Somehow, he knew exactly what I would love. The thought made my skin crawl.
The clothes he had bought were perfect, the apartment and furniture he had someone pick out were like a dream.
I couldn't help but wonder who had done the shopping for him. And when?
If he’d decided all of this last night, even before he picked me up, there wouldn't have been time to secure the apartment or furnish it.
So whose apartment did he put me in?
The more I explored, the more perfect it was. A modern kitchen, bedrooms with built-in bookshelves, and closets already filled with clothes by the same designers that were in that shopping bag.