Page 95 of Ruin Me With Lies

“Look at me when you speak to me.”

Tyrant much?I lift my gaze to meet his.“Apologies, my lord.”

“Do you speak or understand Korean?”

“I do,” I answer, in Korean.

“Of course you do,” he mutters, almost to himself.His eyes flick around the room, annoyed for reasons I can’t quite pin down, then settle back on me.“I have a dinner meeting tonight with South Korean associates.A potential partnership.Negotiations have been dragging on over a year.I want you to come with me.”

I arch a brow.“It’s highly unlikely that Korean businessmen conducting international deals don’t speak English.”

“I never said they didn’t.”He slides his hands into his pockets.“They like to mutter in their language, assuming I can’t understand.I want you to listen.Observe.Tell me afterward what they really said.”

“Maybe that’s why it’s taken a year to seal the deal.”I tsk under my breath.“You want their money but won’t even bother to learn their language.If I were them, I’d talk shit in front of you, too.”

His lips twitch into something akin to a smirk.“Good thing I’ve got a know-it-all little shit at my disposal now, huh?”He turns to leave, calling over his shoulder, “Villa parking lot.Nine sharp.That’snota request.”

And with that, he’s gone again.

~

LATER, BACK ATthe villa, I’m fresh off a sweaty tennis match with Luca—who, for the record, plays like a drunk octopus.Never again—when my phone chimes with a text:

Stefano:Make it 8:00.I don’t trust you to dress yourself.

Me:Yes, daddy.

Stefano:And don’t overwork those toys too much…

Me:You went through my package?!

Stefano:You’re smart enough to know every package delivered to you would be searched by me.

Me:Just admit it, you’re obsessed with me.

Stefano:Correction, I dislike you.

Me:Same difference.

Me:Don’t worry about my toys.They’re having the time of their lives between my thighs.Jealous it’s not you?

Anxiety tightens in my chest as I watch the little typing bubbles blink.Then stop.Then blink again.Then disappear.

Holy shit, am I seriously flirting with this man?And expecting him to flirt back?

Five minutes pass.

Nothing.

With a wicked grin tugging at my lips, I toss my phone onto the bed, then peel off my tennis clothes as I head for the bathroom.

Stepping into the shower, I reach for my favorite toy.

The one I’ve nicknamedKing.

~

“YOUR SENSE OFstyle is appalling,” is how he greets me when I meet him in the villa parking lot.