Page 52 of Sweetest Revenge

Even her name felt bitter in my mouth.

She was an ex. If I could even call her that.

Once upon a time, we’d had pretty okay sex. For a few months at most, she had been at my beck and call, placing herself in the position Addi had sold herself into.

It had been fun, until she had become annoyingly entitled. She told me time and again that she wanted more. Demanded more. Even though I had been clear from the start.

And when I ended things, she turned into… whatever this was.

Her hand brushed across my arm for the millionth time, her voice like an incessantly annoying fly buzzing around my head.

“I told you not to touch me,” I hissed at her.

My gaze snapped back to Addi and that Ezra guy. As soon as she walked away with him, I snapped a photo of him and sent it off to Ares. Within five minutes, I knew everything there was to know about him and the semi-successful company he was running.

My blood boiled when he leaned close to Addi and whispered something to her. I clenched my jaw, grinding my teeth together when she smiled and let out a small giggle.

What’s so fucking funny? Even before we hated each other, she never laughed at my jokes like that.

“Warren,” Darla called, her voice raising an octave. With a sigh, I looked back at her, forcing myself to look away from Addi for a moment. “They’re trustworthy and will offer you a good deal. If you want, I can make an introduct?—”

“Darla,” I snapped at her, my voice loud enough to cause a few people to turn their heads. I didn’t care, though. I came here with Addi; I didn’t give a fuck if people saw me getting snappy with other girls.

Especially one who clearly couldn’t take a hint.

Even if she was the daughter of some wealthy emerald mine owner, which was actually another reason we’d never work out—not that I needed more of those. She didn’t know the meaning of hard work. She just sat there, getting more and more wealthy off her dad’s blood money.

Or maybe it’s because every time you fucked her, you wished she was a little more petite and blonder.

Fuck. I wanted to strangle the voice in my head for that comment.

“What do you want?” I asked, not beating around the bush any longer.

“You know what I want,” she said, her eyes narrowing and her hand back on me, my forearm this time. “It’s never changed. I want you. Father expects me to marry someone soon, and I don’t want some random?—”

I let out a huff of a laugh and pushed her hand off me. What’s with it and her thinking she has a right to touch me?

“I don’t want anything to do with you,” I hissed. “I thought I made that clear a long time ago.”

She gave me a pout that I guessed was supposed to make me be a bit more forgiving toward her, but it did the exact opposite.

“But Warren…”

How had I gotten involved with her? How could I have ever thought she would help me forget Addi?

I instantly looked around for the woman who was controlling my every thought.

I’m fucked.

Just one look. I just need one look.

But looking at Addi was a mistake. She and her little friend had changed positions. They were closer, in fact. Too close. I saw red.

Her hand was on his arm, a soft look on her face that she would never give me in a million years. He was looking at her like he was fucking starstruck or something. Like he was the center of her world. Like he would bottle up everything she wanted in the world and give it to her as a gift.

Why are they so close? Was Addi not clear about the contract?

Fuck the contract.

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