A Billionaire's Revenge

Ch. 28: Mercy

Carmen

Hand in hand, Corden guides me through his elaborate childhood home to find the exit. I still can't believe others live this way with such extravagant furniture and artwork that looks like it belongs in a museum. This world I've walked into is so foreign, and as we continue walking down numerous hallways, I can't help feeling like I don't belong here. I may look the part, but I'm out of place in the sea of the rich and wealthy.

"Delano is waiting out front," he says. "I'm tempted to put the divider up so we can—"

"Jett." His mother waits for us by the front door with a smile and raised brows as she scans us from head to toe. I can only imagine what we look like. My dress is wrinkled, and I'm certain my lipstick is smeared. Corden's hair is mussed, and his dress shirt is coming out of his pants. It doesn't take a brainiac to piece together what we've been doing in her home, and I'm guessing Corden feels the same, judging by the way his body tenses.

Heat flares to my cheeks with embarrassment. "Mrs. Nash, it was such a lovely party you threw. I had an incredible time."

"I'm pleased to hear that," she replies warmly. "Are you two heading out for the night?"

Corden wraps an arm around my waist, drawing me closer. I'm surprised he's being so openly affectionate in front of her, but I don't make any moves to push him away. It feels nice having him close. Supportive. "Yes, we were. It was nice to see you, mother."

The two hold a lingering stare, almost in silent conversation, before she steps to the side and allows us to pass. I lean into Corden's embrace when we walk further down the hall and stop at the coat closet. He grabs my peacoat and helps me into it before shrugging on his own and guiding me out into the freezing cold night. The snow packed on the ground is fresh and in pristine condition, looking like some sort of painting until it inevitably fades and turns to muddy slush mixed with black ice overnight.

Delano dips his chin and opens the door for us to slide into the backseat of the black SUV. His eyes linger on mine, again in that deciphering way of his, but he doesn't comment or express his curiosity. When we get inside the car, I quickly send a text to Sienna to let her know I'm headed home for the night. I took a cab here, so it's not like I have a car to drive home. Not that I own one. What's the point of owning a car in New York when buses and the subway exist?

"Are we headed to the townhome, sir?" He asks. If I'm not mistaken, a smile threatens to appear from the way his lips keep twitching at the sides.

"Yes." A ragged breath of what seems to be relief flows out of Corden before he rests his head on the back of his seat and turns to look at me. "I didn't mean to cut the conversation with my mother short. She can be..."

"A mother?" I suggest.

"She's just very involved in mine and Lincoln's love life. Always trying to play matchmaker and whatnot."

"Well, she only seems to want the best for you. That's what mothers do, right?"

He nods, flicking his eyes to the neckline of my dress, where it's currently gaping open to expose my cleavage. "You sure about coming back with me? What that entails?"

I roll my eyes. "Corden, we know each other well enough by now for you to have the answer to that. I don't say things I don't mean."

"No," he hums in agreement. "I suppose you don't."

The city lights whiz by us in a blur, illuminating Corden's face in a reddish hue. His side profile is one of the most attractive things I've ever seen, and I've seen a lot of attractive men. My blood is still thrumming from our time in the butler's kitchen. My things clamp together as Corden strokes my knuckles with his thumb, memories of his cock lodged in my throat distracting me from making any sort of conversation.