Page 63 of Beautiful Revenge

NONNEGOTIABLE

Harlow

What have I done?

I was engaged a few days ago, not that I had any intention of following through. But still, it’s significant enough to mention it twice.

I was engaged a few days ago, and I just entered into a contractual agreement with an older man to make me feel alive with copious amounts of sex.

Fucking, as Devon promised. I have lots of fucking in my immediate future to look forward to.

He made so many declarations and promises, I lost count. I can’t stop thinking about the two that are most important to me.

Albert tried to control every part of me. It was slow. He did it little by little. Pushing here, taking there. I felt it along the way, but I wanted to make him happy. I thought I loved him.

More importantly, I thought he loved me.

His suggestions were nonnegotiable.

His desires were demands.

And when he minimalized my feelings, it was manipulation.

In the moment, I didn’t recognize that I was losing theperson I was. But it was clear as day. Chrissie has told me a million times, that hindsight is always twenty-twenty and to not beat myself up.

That’s easier said than done.

I need something new to focus on. A jumpstart to a new life. I need to do something I’ve never done before.

Devon isn’t exactly a stranger. I’ve known him...

Well, since my rehearsal dinner.

Fine, he should technically be categorized in the acquaintance category. But the last few days don’t count. My time here should be counted more like dog years.

That makes me feel better. Besides, Devon knows a hell of a lot about me. Most importantly, he knows my biggest secrets. The more he learned, the more curious he became.

If you can call it curious.

I’d like to think it’s an obsession. I know I am with him.

The moment I agreed to his contract, he kissed me one more time before taking me by the hand and stalking all the way back up the pier to the main building. He never let go and didn’t care who saw. And since we hurried right past Blake, I’m pretty sure every employee will know by breakfast tomorrow morning.

But Devon doesn’t care. He’s on a mission, and I’m here for it.

This is the first step to getting me back. My heart, my love for life, and most importantly, my ability to trust again.

I’m not dense enough to think this is the smartest choice.

That’s an answer for hindsight.

What I do know is that it doesn’t feel wrong.

He must have the Midas touch when it comes to his own manor, because the moment he pushes the button, the doors part.

We’re barely inside when a voice calls from behind us. “Oh look, Silas! It’s our elevator friends. Yoo-hoo! Hold the doors! Hold the doors!”

“Fuck,” Devon mutters under his breath.