Page 173 of Poison Vows

“How do I go about purchasing my own?”

“Apartment?”

“Building. My own fancy, high-rise apartment building.”

The shit-eating grin on Scar’s face when she tells me she knows a guy is enough to make my little heart sing.

“Let’s go!”

We spend the next few hours being shown all the rich-people apartment buildings from all boroughs in New York, then it expands to California, Chicago, and even some overseas. The guy is overly excited to help us that he goes above and beyond with the service in his office.

We’re given all the VIP works. Champagne, caviar, a whole lounge room and shit while we browse.

The ease at which Scar does all this tells me everything I need to know.

This girl grew up around money! So, I let her teach me the ropes, but the irony is not lost on me.

I always advocate using a sound mind. I quite literally never do this. Recklessness is not my forte, but I think I’m pretty good at it.

So, without blinking, and my beautiful cheerleader by my side, I pick three buildings.

One in Cali, another in Singapore and lastly, one right here in the Big Apple.

After signing some papers that I don’t bother reading, they’re put in a very fancy like envelope-box thing I’ve never seen before, and Ty picks it all up without batting an eye.

Yup, tell your boss about that!

When we’re done, Scar drags me to go buy some dinner gowns and get our hair and makeup done by experts, but first we get massages and fancy body treatments before we get dressed and head to dinner at some fancy no-name restaurant.

Well, at least I don’t see the name but, my God, the vibes are immaculately elegant.

“You spent close to a billion today,” Scar says laughing happily.

“Shoot?” I’m stunned. “I meant to make it more. Oh, guess I have to improve my performance.”

Scar throws her head back and laughs, drawing attention to us.

“But seriously, I didn’t think it would be that much.”

She eyes me over the rim of her cocktail glass with a fond smile. “Mrs. Easton, you are literally the wealthiest woman inthis city right this moment. I’m an Easton but my net worth is several billions less.”

My jaw drops to the floor.

“But I like your style! You spent more on others than you did on yourself! Your husband is like that.”

My husband.

Emmett is now my husband.

It’s something I’m also not used to, just like being called Mrs. Easton.

“He is?” I croak.

“Yup!” she says, delicately cutting into her fancy meal that I can’t name even with a gun to my head. “He funds boarding schools for kids all over the world. And it’s not because he feels sorry for them either, it’s because he genuinely wants to do that.”

I stare at my plate of smoked salmon and some sauce I want more of, but now my mind drifts back to him.

“Where is he?”

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