“You were not part of anything, Rain. You were nothing more than a girl I had the misfortune to run into in front of my club. A girl I thought was different.” He locks the drawer. “My dad was fucking right. When my mother left us, he didn’t need a slideshow to understand what the rest of his life would look like or how the rest of the women were. He got it, and he taught me well, but I fucking forgot that when I met you.”
He straightens and points to the door.
“Now get the hell out. Go, enjoy your pauper, idyllic life in Manhattan’s gutter, fucking stupid kid.”
“James?”
“Get the fuck out!” he thunders, and I slip out the door, run through the club, and rush outside, dragging with me a long sobbing breath.
End of BookOne
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