Page 31 of Sold to Her Enemy

My parents and his spent so much time together. I don’t know if I can ever forgive Jackie and Fredrick McIntyre for not intervening.

“He didn’t have a choice. Good old Davis was in debt to the mob.”

“How can you say that? That’s what they thought, but it’s not true!”

“You can’t be that naïve, Mckenna. You know your father liked to gamble. You know he never could keep money.”

“And all your father did was use him.”

Adrian flicks my clit hard with his index finger, then he rubs it hard and fast, so much that it hurts, but it adds to my need. My nipples are so tight, I want to rub them against the table’s edge.

He makes a tsking sound, mocking me. “You’re better than that, Mckenna. Your father sold out to the highest bidder, almost destroying what my family had built up for years.”

The investigators’ theory was that my father owed a debt to the mob. But if that was true, why wouldn’t he sell stock in his company? Why wouldn’t he have gone to Adrian’s father for help?

But they didn’t have enough evidence, so it’s not true.

If my father was in trouble, there were lots of things he could have done, like tell us, but instead, Adrian came in and wrecked everything by taking over my father’s company.

“My forensic accountants are still working on it. Millions of dollars went missing. Only two people had access to those accounts. You know your father liked to bet.”

I swallow, my eyes cloud with tears. “I’m tired. I don’t know anything else.”

“I don’t believe you. I am not done asking questions. Do you want to come, Mckenna?” His tone is as smooth as the red wine I drank, and I shake my head.

“I don’t care.”

“We’ll see,” Adrian smiles wolfishly and I shudder, wondering what else is in store for me.

“One more question before we are done here. Why did you talk to that journalist?”

“We needed the money. Everything I told her was true.”

His eyes flash so dark that I can almost taste his fury. For a moment, I think he’s going to slap me, but he works his fingers deeper, driving me closer to the edge.

“Tomorrow, I am taking you shopping for a dress.”

“Fine.”

Adrian smiles. “I knew you’d like it. Do you want to know the occasion?”

“Is it going to make any difference?”

“Oh, it might.”

I hate that sly grin on his face; I steel myself for the worst.

“You’re going to be my date for Ava’s engagement party.”

It is worse than I expected.

The only good thing about my exile from my old life is not having to see Ava.

“How did she trick someone into marrying her?” I bite out.

His hand is on my neck so fast, but I don’t care. I smile because I see in his eyes that he agrees with me. He squeezes my neck, then lets go.

Adrian might think of me as being the chilly snob, but Ava? She was born to be an elitist bitch queen.

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