Page 156 of Sinful Lies

“Gotta go, Caia’s gonna be pissed,” he muttered before hanging up.

I focused on dinner—Italian from Vittori’s restaurant—because there was no way I’d risk poisoning the poor woman with my cooking.

I didn’t care about much, but Jade dragging out food poisoning for the next decade? Yeah, that was a level of misery I wasn’t signing up for.

I transferred the food into casserole dishes and popped them into the oven to warm. Plates, silverware, glasses—the works—got laid out on the table. She’d take the wine; I’d stick to water.

Someone had to keep their head clear, and it damn well wasn’t going to be her.

As I set the table, my mind betrayed me—again.

The image of Jade on her knees, her lips wrapped around my cock, tore through my thoughts for the hundredth time tonight. My jaw tightened, my groin stirred, and I cursed under my breath.

Over the years, I’d seen every shade of Jade: impatient, spoiled, and maddeningly bitchy, especially when the world hadthe audacity to spin on its own timeline instead of hers. When I didn’t give her the attention she demanded, she always found a way to force my hand.

Spilling her coffee on my desk “accidentally.”

Leaving her makeup in my office, then tearing the place apart to find her precious lipstick.

Calling my desk phone relentlessly, detailing every irrelevant second of her day and hanging up only when I stayed silent—boycotting me for a week if I dared to cut her off.

Then there was the Hermes stunt—dropping $120K on the company card “by mistake.” Or eating my lunch in front of me, claiming she was starving and I was “built to survive without it.”

The woman had worn down every ounce of my patience and shredded every last nerve.

And still, she was the one person who truly knew me—knew exactly how to push every button and get what she wanted. Things no one else would even dare to ask for.

And fuck, if I’d known how sweet her pussy would taste—how it would feel wrapped around me—I would’ve had her years ago.

But all that waiting?

Goddamn, it was worth every fucking second.

A dark laugh escaped me as I finished setting the table.

The woman was insane.

Completely insane.

And undeniably, irrevocablymine.

I was consumed by her—her wicked mouth, those dark eyes that dared me to come closer, her body that looked like it had been carved just to ruin me.

I was obsessed.

Fixated on claiming her, and it was working.

She could throw all the insults she wanted, but her eyes had betrayed her every single time.

They’d burned with desire, flickered with longing she was too proud to admit.

She had been fighting it, sure, but she was losing.

And tonight?

Tonight, I’d break her.

I’d take her, ruin her, and make her mine. Mind, body, and soul.

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