Page 38 of Ruined
CHAPTER 10
Lucas
I thrived on strategy. Take my career, for example. Knowing the way the market worked, being flexible to the way it changed on a daily, monthly, and yearly basis, being able to predict, and adapting when I couldn’t foresee, timing the bids, creating a diverse portfolio, knowing which investments would be the most profitable. All of those challenges mattered, and each one had its own unique process. Those strategies were the reason Conway Capital continued to rise above Aldrich Inspired Investments.
I sometimes wondered, if Aldrich hadn’t betrayed me, how long it would have taken me to realize that he was holding himself, and me, back? Even in the beginning, I was better than him. I had an instinct that was unmatched, and after a while, it was clear: I knew financial strategies better than Aldrich.
It was the same experience with Haley.
She might have been a challenge to both of us at first, but it was different with me. I had to adapt, to mold, to figure out what made her tick. If I moved too suddenly or too close to her edges, she would flee. But if I paddled above the surface, steered her in the right direction, made her think that it washerchoice, then she would be mine. And she would beg for it.
And it was her choice. But she didn’t know that I was controlling every aspect of the situation.
It wasn’t hard to predict which people had jealous streaks that ran through them. While Haley was confident, there was uncertainty inside of her too. Hesitancy with the fact that she was an entertainment server in a club that, to the rest of the town, was rumored to be nothing more than a high-class brothel. A cover for a sex-trafficking ring. Haley had doubt about herself, centered around the knowledge that her mother had become a stripper after she left the Dahlia District.
And yet Haley was confident in my attraction to her, as she should be. I hadn’t been this invested in a woman in years.
But I had one move up my sleeve. One potential way to secure her need for me.
Mel was sitting at the bar, doodling on a notepad: a simple bobblehead cartoon in an intricate forest clearing, covered with wildflowers. On the counter rested a half-empty long island, the condensation dripping down the sides and soaking a napkin underneath. She was on the floor early.
“What’s that?” I asked.
She flinched, then stretched when she saw me. “Daydreams. What’s up?”
Ah, so Mel knew something was off about me contacting her. In the earlier days, she had approached me a few times while I was waiting for Haley, but I always turned her down. Our drinking escapades the night before were the most we had spoken. She was pretty, but she wasn’t what I was after. There was something missing when it came to her. Something that I needed. Something that Haley had.
“No Aldrich tonight?” I asked.
“I think he usually comes later.”
“Sit with me.” I opened my phone and showed her that I was adding funds to her club account. “Until he gets here.”
She pressed her lips together. “Until Haley is ready?” she asked.
“As long as you want to stay.”
And it was the truth. This was one move. Using the attention of another woman to see how Haley would react. It could backfire. But regardless, I would be closer to knowing what was inside of Haley. What made her tick.
I almost felt bad for doing it, but I didn’t. I couldn’t trust anyone. Not even Haley. And it wasn’t my problem if Haley was foolish enough to trust me.
I wanted to believe that she was playing a game with me too. That Haley knew who I was, down at my core. That she saw through the bullshit charm and unveiled the monster restlessly waiting inside of me. The kind of man who would use a woman like her as the basis for a bet. Who only saw her as a challenge.
But she was more than that. As much as I hated to admit it, she intrigued me. I could see why Aldrich had chased her for years.
It showed the kind of person Mel was too. She knew something strange was going on with my intentions, but she didn’t shy away from it. To Mel, money was money.
“Only until Haley gets on the floor,” Mel said. She motioned at the bar. “Care for a drink?”
I nodded at the bartender.
“Whiskey, neat, please.”
Mel opted to dump the watered-down drink she had been nursing, and ordered a fresh long island. I asked her about her background. But as Haley had been at our first meeting, Mel was rather tight-lipped.
“Dahlia offered me the opportunity to do art for a living,” she said, a fake smile etched on her face. “And here I am. Doing art. And living.”
We politely made banter until Haley came through the doors. A strappy black ensemble stretched around her limbs, each bar of extra fabric looking as if they came straight from her bra and underwear, like a source of power. It reminded me of her dancing on the silks. Her lips were a darker shade than usual, her eye makeup tantalizing. I hoped it wasn’t waterproof. It would run down her cheeks in black, inky tears soon, if all went according to my plan. Then I’d smear the bleeding makeup all over her face as I spanked her tight ass.
