Page 81 of The Husband Contract
“Hannibal Lecter?” He raises an eyebrow. “You mean fromThe Silence of the Lambs?”
“You’re just as horrible as him.”
He tilts his head to the side and smiles. His eyes look me up and down.
I can’t believe that he thinks it’s funny.
“Are you saying you want me to eat you?” he asks, licking his lips. “I mean, take off your pants and I’ll do just that.” A brief memory of his tongue between my legs heats me up. The way he’d licked and sucked me before had me blushing. He’d acted like he was ravenous.
“I’m saying you deserve to be locked up, you pig. And let me tell you this—if you were in jail, I’d be the first one to grab the key and throw it into the ocean so that you could never escape.”
“Tell me how you really feel, Willow,” he says, chuckling slightly. “Are you mad because I found out who you really are? Or are you mad because…” He pauses and gives his head a shake. “You know what? I don’t even care.”
But he does care. If not for me, my supposed transgressions.
“I don’t understand, Sebastian. What do you want from me? What is the point of all of this?”
“That’s not for you to understand, but you will, when I see fit,” he says in a cryptic tone. “Now, are you hungry? I’m going to get something to eat.”
“I’d rather die of starvation than eat anything from your kitchen,” I spit out.
“Okay.” He shrugs and walks toward the door. Then, he stops and looks back at me, a wolfish grin on his lips. “If you want to eatme, I won’t mind.”
I glower at him as I make my way into the bathroom and slam the door shut. I will not even deign to give him another response.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Sebastian
It’s been a week since Willow has been in my apartment, and she hasn’t spoken to me since she called me Hannibal Lecter. The words had been causally spoken, but the hint of truth in them stung. Even though it was always the plan from the very beginning, I’m starting to realize I don’t like being the villain in her story. I contemplate her words every day I wake up, and I feel conflicted each time I process the situation.
Nothing makes sense with her.
Willow was so adamant about the fact she didn’t think she’d done anything wrong—but the fact of the matter is, I have receipts. I have proof. Louisa provided those to me. She’d sent me photos and documents that clearly implicated Willow.
I rub my forehead and run my fingers back through myhair. The start of a headache has my temples throbbing. This was not how this situation was supposed to go. Distress take over and I barely keep a lid on it. I’m about to go and change for the gym when Janice knocks on the office door and peeks inside.
Hi, Mr. Laurence. Jack is here.”
“Oh, great. Thanks. Send him in.”
“Yes, sir.” She nods and leaves the room.
Though she hasn’t said a word to me about Willow, her eyes are still full of judgment. I wonder what she thinks about this situation. She’s been with me for three years and she’d never overstepped her position and yet I could feel how much she dislikes the situation. It makes me feel even worse about a bad situation.
I stand up and head over to the small bar at the side of the room and pick up the crystal whiskey decanter Sergio bought me for Christmas a few years ago. A couple of moments later, Jack walks in to the office wearing a dark pinstriped Armani suit.
His smile is relaxed, and his blue eyes shine bright as he gazes at me. “You’re drinking already?”
“It’s three o’clock.” I look down at my Rolex. “Far from early."
“It’s early for you, Sebastian. It’s still the workday.” His voice is light, but I can hear the concern. We’ve been friends long enough for him to know my habits. And I never drink during the workday.
“I’m stressed,” I say, shrugging. A complete understatement. I’m far more than stressed. I’m in the middle of an existential crisis. “You want one?”
He shrugs. “Why not?”
I pour two shots of whiskey into two leaded glasses and hand him one.
