Million Dollar Baby (complete)

The evidence

BPOV

As I watched the limousine disappear from sight, something came over me. I expected it to be defeat, agony, betrayal, heartache...but it wasn't.

Rage. Rage and...arrrgh, more RAGE.

How fuçking dare he? Stupid ass with his stupid big house, and his stupid big ego, and his stupid big head thinking that he knew what I was going to say. And then, before letting me get the words out of my mouth that were sure to prove him wrong, he goes and pretty much tells me to fūck off.

He got to say all that he wanted, and I mean, sure, I could've echoed his declaration whilst in the throes of passion, but that passion was pretty fῡcking epic and I had a hard enough time remembering to breathe - yes, he took my fùcking breath away - let alone being able to say anything that would have sounded in the least bit coherent or endearing. Besides, I really thought I had all kinds of time to tell him how I felt. I mean, hellloooo...I told him to call me Bella. Additionally, I didn't want him to think I was just saying those three little words just because he did. I wanted a separate moment to do the whole shout-it-from-the-highest-mountain-top-for-the-whole-world-to-hear thing so that there was no doubting the sincerity of my declaration. Because a declaration of that magnitude is a pretty fucking serious thing, but I was all kinds of prepared to make that leap...for him, for me...for us.

And then he just had to go and ruin it with all his me-man, me-know-what-best-for-woman caveman bullshit.

Fučk and that.

All those hairy pitted, buzz-cut feminine rights activists with no boobs, no hygiene and no chance of ever really landing a man...were right. Men were jackasses.

But, the difference between me and them is that I could do something about my man because I really had nothing to lose by getting all up in his grill. I was going to make him listen to me, whether he wanted to or not. He was going to know that I loved him and he was going to feel like a total ass for dismissing me the way he did. Because I was going down to that posh little office of his and I was going to demand his attention. He was going to see how wrong he was to make the assumptions he made, and he would never jump to conclusions again. Because I was a woman, damnit; a woman who had given up everything to save her dying mother's life, and I had a fῡcking voice that was screaming to be heard. I'll be damned if everything I'd been through since I entered Justin Anderson's world was all going to be for nothing.

Resigned to that theory, I turned on my heel and stalked back into the house with my shoulders back and my head held high. After a quick shower and a tour through Alice's wonderland of inappropriate clothing, I dressed and grabbed my cell phone from the table before leaving.

I was really quite impressed with myself as I scurried down the stairs, again avoiding a neck-breaking, skull-crushing fall. Just as I reached the first floor, I heard a car pull up. It had to be Riley returning from dropping Justin off, and I gave myself a healthy dose of see-this-was-meant-to-be because how perfect was that timing?

And then there was an insistent pounding on the door, followed by a, "Belly Bean! Belll-lyyy Beeeaannn! Get your fat ass out of the bed and open the fῡcking door, bitçh!"

No way that shrill, girlified voice could be mistaken. That was my bestie...Gabriel Baxter.

I sprinted for the door and yanked it open just as Gabe was about to pound his fist against it again. For such a girly-man, he was pretty fῡcking stout and I was lucky that he narrowly missed cold-cocking me in the forehead. Like I needed to look like a freakin' unicorn when I went to confront Stupid ass.

"Gabe!" I shrieked as I ducked his fist. We both took a step back and eyed each other over from head to toe.

"What the hell are you wearing?" we both asked simultaneously. "Jinx! You owe me a Coke!" I yelled at the same time that Gabe yelled, "Jinx! You owe me a còck!"