This Cruel Love

“And there was me thinking you’d asked one of your whores to pick it out for me.”

The pulse in his neck started to throb as he tensed his jaw.

“What is it with you and this obsession about me having whores?”

He didn’t look happy. What a shame. Not.

“Don’t you? I mean, isn’t that what you told me the first time we met? Let’s see if I remember it right… ‘I have women begging to come into my bed’ …or some such bullshit.”

He huffed out his annoyance. “I’m not discussing this with you now, Ryley. I need you to step up and meet your part of the deal tonight. I’ll let you know when to turn on the extra charm. If you have any.”

I laughed at his insult. If he thought I was socially inept, he didn’t know my family very well. I was born into the kind of social circles he was trying to tap into. These people were my people. I didn’t like it, but I was in tune with them nonetheless.

“Oh, I have charm.” I did my best sultry walk to the door, feeling him follow close behind me. “I just don’t waste it on people who have no class.”

The limo ride to the event was painful. Jackson sat scowling out of the window the whole time, and waves of irritation were emitted over to my side of the car, making me feel more nauseous. I sat, biting my nails and contemplating what kind of show I was going to have to put on tonight.

“Stop biting your nails, it’s not ladylike,” he snapped at me as we pulled up to the front of a huge manor house.

“How would you know what’s ladylike? You don’t know that many ladies,” I bit back.

I gazed out of the car towards the manor. The windows were ablaze with lights, hinting at the opulence that lay inside. Torches lit up each of the stone steps leading to the open double doors. I could see people filtering into the party, dressed in the latest designer clothes. My parents lived for parties like this. Me? I hated them. Everyone smiling at each other, but gossiping behind their backs the second they were out of earshot. These people were beautiful, and yet most of them were the ugliest part of society I’d ever encountered. All that mattered was money, and whether you had it. If you didn’t, they’d soon sniff you out. Jackson had it, but he was obviously new money so they wouldn’t trust him. I suppose that’s where I came in. My family were some of the oldest money there was in this city. Not that money made you ‘good people’.

“Come on, sweetheart. Time to put on the show of your life.” He smiled a fake smile and held his hand out to me as the driver opened his door and he climbed out.

I took a deep breath and reached for his hand. I put the swirling feeling in my tummy down to nerves, and not the feel of his skin touching mine. No, that’d be more of a sick feeling, I figured.

As we ascended the stone steps, I noticed a lot of people turning their heads to watch us. Some familiar faces from my past started to whisper, and I knew exactly what they were saying. What’s the Emerson’s daughter doing here? And on the arm of a gangster like him? Is she trying to permanently dirty or destroy her family’s good name? Thank God Mum and Dad were still on their cruise. There was no danger of running into them and creating even more stress for them. They worried enough about Justin, so they’d positively despise Jackson.

I held my head high and ignored the nagging voices in my brain. All of this was for Justin, for both of us. Get in, work my magic, and get out. That’d be my mantra for the evening.

“Loosen up a bit and try to look like you want to be here,” Jackson grunted into my ear as we reached the entrance. “You look like you’ve got a giant stick up your ass.”

He snorted on a grin, then guided me into the reception hall with his traitorous hand on the small of my back.

“Stop trying to be a smart ass. You’re not smart, you’re just an ass.” I smirked back, and he threw his head back and roared with laughter, earning us numerous stares from the vultures around us.

“Ryley, I think sparring with you is becoming my new favourite pastime.”

He grabbed two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray and handed one to me. I drank it down in one gulp and he cocked his eyebrow.

“Well, I can’t punch you in the face with my fists, so I’ll just do it with my words instead,” I said, scanning the room for more alcohol.

“You really hate me, don’t you?” He ran his arm around my waist and pulled me close to him. Anyone looking at us would think we were two lovebirds, whispering sweet nothings to each other.

“Hate is such a strong word, but I have to admit, if you were on a life support machine, I wouldn’t hesitate to unplug you to charge my phone. I mean, how should I feel about a guy who sends his men round to my apartment at three a.m. to do God knows what to me and my fiancé?”

He gave nothing away with his impassive expression, but his eyes burned with fire at my admission.

“They would never have hurt you,” he hissed through gritted teeth. “Anyway, aren’t you even remotely pissed at your fiancé for putting you in that situation in the first place?”

His reasoning behind the whole incident was fucked up, that was obvious. He wasn’t at fault. No, that was just how he conducted his business.

“Of course I blame him for some of it, but thanks to you, he’s not here to argue with, is he? No. I have to endure three months of hell without him, in order to get rid of you from our lives. It’s a small price to pay, I suppose, seeing as I’ll never have to see your evil ass ever again in three months from now.”

He smirked, then leant down and placed a gentle k

iss on my cheek. “If only closed minds came with closed mouths.” He stared into my eyes like he’d just sworn undying love to me, then guided me over towards the main ballroom area.