Chapter 4
My stomach churned violently and I had to grip the wall to keep from collapsing.
Harrison was still sweet–talking Celeste, his voice honey–soft–a complete 180 from the venom he’d just spat at me.
Celeste gradually stopped her crying act and walked over with a fake–ass smile.
“Listen, Vivian, you really need to let this go.”
“You can’t force someone to love you. Harrison doesn’t want you, and clinging to him just makes you look pathetic.”
I stared at her coldly, saying nothing.
She kept going like I wasn’t giving her the death glare.
“Here’s the truth–in any love triangle, the one who isn’t loved is the real homewrecker. Do everyone a favor and bow out gracefully.”
Then the bitch yanked up her little crop top, flashing a pink tattoo on her hip: “Harrison’s Princess.”
She grabbed Harrison’s shirt and lifted it too, revealing matching ink in the same spot: “Celeste’s Good Boy.”
I wanted to puke.
This was Harrison Whitmore–Manhattan’s most ruthless CEO, the man who could destroy careers with a look. And he’d let some Instagram bitch brand him like slave.
My chest felt like someone was squeezing my heart in a fist.
So he was capable of crazy, all–consuming love. Just not for me.
Celeste dropped her shirt, trailing her fingers over Harrison’s tattoo with a smug smile.
“Harrison says only I can make him feel this alive. Can you do that, Vivian?”
The bile rose in my throat. I turned to get the hell out of there.
But Celeste suddenly lunged for me–barely brushed my sleeve before she threw herself backward, screaming as she crashed
into a medical cart.
Glass exploded everywhere. She hit the floor hard, clutching her arm as blood seeped through her fingers.
“Harrison!” She sobbed like she was dying.
Harrison’s eyes went arctic. He grabbed me by the throat.
“Are you out of your fucking mind, Vivian?!”
“Apologize to her right fucking now!”
I shoved his hands away. “I didn’t push her. Why should I apologize?”
19:05
Fifteen Years of Love, Lost in One Night with His Sugar Baby
30.04
Chapter 4
His face went murderous. He snapped at his security detail: “Slap some sense into her! Don’t stop until she apologizes!”
Two bodyguards stepped forward–one grabbed my arms while the other raised his hand.
CRACK!
The sound echoed through the hallway. My face exploded in white–hot pain.
“Ready to apologize?” Harrison’s voice was ice.
Blood filled my mouth but I kept my lips sealed. “Go to hell.”
CRACK! CRACK! CRACK!
The hits kept coming, each one harder than the last. My head whipped side to side. They had to hold me upright so I wouldn’t collapse.
Everyone around us had gone dead silent.
Celeste was curled in Harrison’s arms, peeking up at the show with barely concealed glee.
After a dozen slaps, my face was swollen beyond recognition and my vision was going fuzzy.
Harrison finally called a halt, his tone deadly calm.
“Last fucking chance. You ready to apologize?”
I swayed on my feet, blood dripping from my split lip.
“I… didn’t… do… anything.”
Something feral flashed in Harrison’s eyes. He grabbed a shard of broken glass and sliced it across my arm in the exact same spot where Celeste was bleeding.
‘Maybe this pain’ll help you remember not to fuck with what’s mine!”
Blood poured down my arm as he scooped up Celeste and walked away without looking back.
The hallway cleared out fast, leaving me alone with my reflection in the blood–spattered floor.
The physical pain was nothing compared to the black hole in my chest.
He’d never believe me. Never choose me. My word meant less than dog shit compared to her crocodile tears.
Fuck it. He wanted to play games?
Game on.
pulled out my phone with shaking fingers and dialed two numbers I knew by heart.
Three hours later, NYPD cruisers were parked outside the hospital.
I stood at the end of the hallway and watched the officers enter Celeste’s room with an arrest warrant.
19.05
Fifteen Years of Love, Lost in One Night with His Su
