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Crowned by Hate (Crowned 1)

Page 8

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Bryant’s dark eyes search mine eagerly, a sadistic smirk skimming across his lips. “You marry me, and I’ll make sure no one ever sees the tape.”

“What!” I cough loudly before a spastic of fits erupt from my throat. “Excuse me, but what?” I drop to a deathly whisper, inching myself closer to him. “And what fucking tape are you talking about?”

“You don’t ask questions,” he adds, smiling at another person walking pass as if he didn’t just tell me I was going to fucking marry him and that he possibly has evidence to some very disturbing shit that happened years ago.

“See, that won’t work for me. I’m a question asker,” I retort, my lip curled in disgust.

“It will have to work.”

“Huh.” I shake my head. “If you have anything of that night—”

“—Stop thinking, and I do have shit from that night. You know within yourself that I do. Look into my eyes, Isa.” he comes closer to me, but my hands fly up instinctively, pushing him away.

He ignores my push as if It’s nothing, and cocks his head. “Who am I?” He looks between each of my eyes, a cocky smirk tilting the corner of his mouth. “Who,” he whispers, leaning forward until his warm lips brush over my earlobe. “Am I,” he ends harshly into my ear, his warm breath ticking over my flesh.

I close my eyes. Fight it, Isa. “Fuck you, don’t tell me what to do.”

There. I showed him.

“Great start, baby, come…” he places his hand out to me.

“Nope.” I shake my head. “I need proof that what you’re saying is true, and also! My dad, my best friends, they’re not going to believe I fell in love with your pretty fucking eyes the first time I saw you. They know I’m smarter than that.” This is true, though I can’t see my father arguing it, in fact, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say he orchestrated the whole thing—that’s how much he adores Bryant.

Bryant shrugs. “Then just tell them it was my cock. Bet they’d believe that.”

My face scrunches in offense, but then my frown falls. “Actually, they’re probably more inclined to believe that.” Sad, but true. “But I will still need proof. That video, what happened that night, your friends,” my voice drops to a low whisper, “no one can know. Ever.” There’s one part of that night I remember vividly, and that’s the part that I’m guessing Bryant has evidence on.

His eyes search mine. “Oh, I’m well aware how much you wouldn’t want people to know what happened that night. Tell me…” he steps forward until his lips are skimming over my jaw, “do his dead eyes haunt your dreams at night?” My breathing stops, and my lip trembles. Stepping backward, I search his eyes. “I know who you are,” I whisper, searching his eyes. It’s him. It’s Wolf. Even though he looks different now, I will always remember those eyes.

He grins again, his eyelids heavy and his eyes dark. “Say it.”

I open my mouth, but then close it, not wanting to entertain his bullshit games. “Let’s go. I need to see this fucking tape.” Snatching my clutch off the table, I leave my wine. My poor, innocent wine. Just as I’m about to step forward, his hand catches mine, tugging me backward forcefully. “Nah uh, baby.” He steps closer, his arm wrapping around my neck to pull me under his arm. “We need people to start questioning our actions for this to be believable. It starts now.” He kisses the side of my head as we start making our way back toward my father. My skin is crawling from the remnants of memories he’s left floating around me. My whole attitude has changed. I no longer care about the wine or the food, I just want to see the fucking tape.

I plaster on a fake smile anyway, forcing myself to melt into his hard body. Over the years, I’ve mastered the art of the fake smile. “Dad,” I announce as soon as we come near. My father looks between both of us with confusion, but I see the moment when understanding sets in. My dad knows me. Knows I’ve never hidden the fact that I have a healthy sexual appetite so he would think that I’ve just seduced Bryant into some of my shenanigans. That is, of course, if he hadn’t orchestrated this, which if I go by his response to seeing Bryant’s arm around me, is a solid no.

“Yes?” He can’t even try to hide his joy. Cheers, Dad, just another thing to add to your ‘Best Dad Ever’ list.

“We’re going to leave, is that okay?” I continue with that Oscar-worthy smile.

His face lights up, obviously pleased with what he thinks, is going to be my next bed partner.

“Of course. I’ll see you both tomorrow.”


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