Page 65 of Contract of a Billionaire

My favorite season. The only woman I loved. And lost. Last time I saw her I made her eyes turn brown. I haven’t seen her in four years. Not unless you counted my stalking activity.

There hadn’t been a day that I hadn’t thought about it. One thousand four hundred and sixty days. Not a single day had gone by without me thinking about her. Regretting those last words. She was never just a fuck, but I knew if I didn’t end it, end us, my bastard father would have never stopped going after her.

So she became my past, while still lingering in my present. My future.

She had made a name for herself. Attempting to save the world, while I corrupted it at the same time. Her photos were sought after and sold for a lot of money. She didn’t just capture moments thatNational Geographicbooked. She became a freelancer. She visited the corners of the world that other photographers hesitated to visit. The photos she snapped made the public aware of topics nobody talked about.

Mistreated girls in Afghanistan. Starvation in Ghana. Child abuse. Discrimination.

A picture is worth a thousand words.

She and Branka ended up starting a blog and that was their motto. It was fucking appropriate that my sister and the love of my life aimed to save the world, while I corrupted it distributing guns and drugs.

Yeah, no wonder our story ended the way it did. A tragedy. A total fuck-up.

Colorful leaves covered the grounds all around us, creating a beautiful setting but there was nothing serene about the current moment. The autumn breeze flowed through, lifting the leaves off the ground, creating a dance in the wind.

Whirling around Senator Ashford, like witches casting spells around a fire. I wished there’d be a death wish cast on that fucker too.

If I could get away with shooting my biological father right here and now, I would. It’d save me time. Two funerals at the same time. It’d make my fucking year. But that wouldn’t fly with my half-brothers.

Branka’s gaze kept flickering to Autumn’s parents. She wanted to go to them. Honestly, I didn’t give a fuck. We were a clusterfuck of a family, courtesy of the man we were burying.

The man I killed. I should have done it years ago. It would have saved us all a great deal of pain. The final push was learning he was about to trade my sister for a shipment of drugs.

All it took was a clean shot through Father’s brain to end him. Courtesy of my half-brother, Royce Ashford. Byron planned the logistics; Royce pulled the trigger. It was fucking amazing what brought people together.

Now, I owed him. Reluctantly. We were still not friends, and I didn’t consider them family.

“Autumn.” Branka’s soft exclamation stilled me before I followed her gaze.

It was then that I saw her. She stood off to the side, her cheeks slightly flushed. She must have just arrived. I took a deep breath, almost expecting to smell that unique scent of her. Apples, cinnamon, and fresh fallen leaves. The need to inhale her scent crawled up my chest, but instead oxygen burned my lungs. Her fragrance never reached me.

Four fucking years. The sound of her moans and her soft body underneath me never stopped haunting me.Shenever stopped haunting me.

I watched the woman who looked the same but different.

Strong. Soft. Beautiful. So fucking perfect.

Like moths attracted to the flame, men’s gazes followed her.Some things never change, I thought bitterly. It made me want to dig out all their eyeballs and throw them into the dirt so they’d never see my woman again.

Since I couldn’t shout at everyone to avert their eyes, I took my piss-poor mood out on my half-brother.

“Stop staring at my woman before I punch you in the face,” I hissed under my breath.

Yes, my woman. Autumn was mine. If I had to wait another four years, I would because there was nobody else for me. The biggest threat to her was finally gone. Now, I wanted another chance. A way for us to go back to the way things were.

I flicked a bitter look to the bastard’s casket. He deserved to die a long time ago.

It was he who cost me my woman. It was he who cost me my childhood, mother, and both my sisters’ well-being. My only regret was that I hadn’t killed the old man decades ago.

Returning my eyes back to the woman who’d finally come back, I let my gaze travel over her body. Her simple black dress hugged her curves and only reached down to above her knees. Each time the breeze swept through the gravesite, it gave a peek of her beautiful curves.

Fuck, if it’d only bring her scent over my way. I just needed one dose of her to carry me until I got her back. In my bed. In my home. In my life.

The priest’s voice penetrated through my thoughts.

Ashes to ashes, dust to dust.