HauntingAdie {1}

C26

The Manipulator

I’m seething, and my thighs are slick with my own arousal as I rush after Zade.
He doesn’t bother turning the movie off. We just slip from the room and
quickly make our way back into the ballroom.
It’s like no one even noticed us gone. But I’m sure people have, right? Zade
has worked this entire room by now, and as much as I loathe to admit it, the man
is unforgettable.
To say the fucking least.
All of two minutes pass before a man approaches us, his black uniform and
white vest signaling his position.
“Mr. Forthright, Ms. Reilly, please follow me,” the butler, Marion, instructs.
Just like that, I’m stone-cold sober and the lingering orgasm has been
completely eradicated.
Marion leads us through a series of hallways, pointing out certain pictures and
historical artifacts Mark managed to get his hands on.
I nod and hum my appraisal, but my mind is drifting back towards Gigi and the
potential information I could garner tonight. Mark might choose to give me
breadcrumbs and keep me coming back for more, but it'll be futile.
He’s not getting me back in this house again. I'm not entirely sure if coming
here was even worth it yet or not.
At least I got to watch an unreleased movie, even though I didn’t get to see
how it ended.
Whatever, I don’t remember much about it anyways. My gaze was sightless
when all I could focus on was—
Stop it, Addie.
My stomach drops from the fresh memory, and it takes entering Mark’s study
to pull my attention firmly back into the present.
“My two favorite people,” Mark greets loudly, a lit cigar poised between his
fingers and a glass of amber liquid in the crystal cup dangling in his other hand.
He looks drunk. His ruddy face is flushed red, and his eyes have begun to glaze
over a bit.
“Please, sit,” he directs, pointing to the plush leather couch beside his desk.

Zade and I take a seat, and the two men immediately engage in a conversation
about the party. I add my two cents in when required, noting how beautiful the
chandeliers are and the fascinating artifacts decorating his house.
He beams at the compliment, a smile stretching across his face.
“All thanks to my wife, of course. She does enjoy spending my money, and if
decorating this house is what keeps her happy, then I can live with that,” he jests.
His tone is joyful, but the words are condescending and meant to be an attack.
“I’m sure you know how much the ladies love our money, huh, Zack?”
And there’s the cherry on top of his sundae of misogyny. I bet his sundae taste
like bruised skin and a bleeding heart.
Zade smiles, the act nearly primal and ripe with danger. “Small price to pay
when they give us something so priceless every day. And if you ask me, I’d tell
you I’m not worthy of it, but I’m a selfish bastard and will accept it anyways,” he
answers cryptically. I don’t know how I know, but I know exactly what he’s
speaking of.
Love.
Love is priceless. As Mark’s nefarious dealings have proven, pussy can be
bought and is plentiful, whether they’re forcing it or getting consent. And despite
all the ways Zade has forced me to my knees for him, the only thing he’s ever
really wanted from me is to return his addiction. Because that’s the one thing he
can’t take or force.
He can force my body to succumb to him, but he can’t force my heart to beat
for him.
And ironically, it seems that’s the one thing he wants most from me.
Mark takes it the direction most men would. He laughs and offers me a wink,
as if he knows without a doubt how priceless my pussy might be. But if I had to
guess on what type of man Mark is, he’d put a price on me in a heartbeat.
“I know exactly what you mean,” he chortles.
Do you, asshole?
I shrug a shoulder. "I think you're the lucky one, Mark. One look at Claire, and
you can see she is a strong, capable woman. Those are the most dangerous." I add
in a wink, but I know it's falling on deaf ears. Mark is too comfortable in the
patriarchy to consider that Claire might not shove a knife through his neck while
sleeping one night.
Mark scoffs, but he takes the hint and shuts his mouth. At least he's not dense
enough to feel the plummeting mood.
Zade appears relaxed and collected, but I know that beast in his soul is pacing
back and forth, just waiting to be set loose. I can tell by the subtle flexing of his
fist, and that way his smile appears threatening and feral. I can just feel the energy
radiating off of him despite the serenity he exudes.