The Perfect Ruin - Page 23

When it was time for me to go, Lola handed me a bottle of white wine from her wine fridge—it was her favorite and I needed to try it right away—and gave me a kiss on the cheek, reminding me to be at her place next Saturday for the photo shoot.

I strolled past her blue Tesla and a black Chrysler 300 with bold silver rims that I could only assume belonged to Corey.

Lola gave me a final wave as I started my car and even watched me leave her driveway from the front door. As I drove through the gates, though, making sure my windows were rolled up, I screamed as loudly as I could, until my lungs felt like they were about to pop.

When I was far enough from her house that she couldn’t see me, but still in the privacy of the cobblestone driveway, I rested my head on the steering wheel while gripping it.

Playing nice with her was killing me slowly, but I knew in the end all this would be worth it. I just had to keep following through. I had to keep Lola close, no matter how badly I wanted to wrap my hands around her throat and strangle her.

“Gain her trust, then ruin her,” I said, putting the car in Drive and rolling out of the driveway. “Gain her trust, then ruin her.”

I repeated the mantra off Star Island and the whole way home.

CHAPTER NINE

When I woke up the morning after brunch with Lola, the first thing I did was grab my phone and open the Instagram app. I could see why people became addicted to watching other people’s lives now, Marriott. You can’t help it, really. It’s human nature to see what other humans are up to.

It was a surprise to see Lola had found me and followed me back, despite the fact that I had no photos on my account. Only thing I had was a profile image. It was all so pointless to me, but I suppose to keep up appearances and to let Lola know I was the average millennial, I had to start posting something soon.

I sat up and stared at the half-empty bottle of white wine on my nightstand that Lola had sent me off with after brunch. I had looked it up while on my break at work. The bottle was worth three hundred dollars. I almost had the urge to dump it down the drain with a chuckle, just to know I’d wasted her money, but after spending all that time with her at her mansion, seeing how she got to live her life, and then dealing with rude-ass customers at work afterward, I decided to drink it when I got home instead.

My head was throbbing as I clicked through Lola’s stories. I never did well with wine. I climbed out of bed and walked to my bathroom, taking down a bottle of painkillers. I popped two of them in my hand, then walked back to my nightstand to grab the wine bottle. The pill was in my mouth and I chugged down a good bit of wine before swallowing it all. I know, I know. A bad thing to do—a dangerous cocktail—but it was fine. I lived.

I lay in bed again, picking up my phone and visiting Corey’s profile this time.

He was in Vegas with his boys, as Lola had mentioned. He’d posted several photos, and even had an image of him with one of his guys and a woman who looked like a stripper between them.

I wondered what Lola thought, seeing that image; then again, I bet she wasn’t even bothered. She seemed like the kind of woman who trusted her husband more than anyone in the world.

Men are pigs, but I had hoped Corey didn’t have any piglike traits. He seemed like the perfect gentleman. Strong. Kind. Funny when necessary. I was sure he had his flaws, as all people did, and the only way I was going to find out what they were was through Lola.

It was a shame I spent the better half of my day off stalking the couple on my phone. Corey had added videos to his Instagram stories of him walking in Vegas, taking shots of liquor with his buddies. I wished I could be with him.

There was an image of him on his profile. A new one. He’d taken a selfie on the balcony of his suite. The city of Las Vegas was behind him. He smiled wide, and his teeth were so white, and he had that stubble on his chin that proved he hadn’t shaved in about two weeks.

He was so sexy. So dreamy.

I envied how he could just run off and have a good time in a different state with no repercussions. Meanwhile, I killed myself for every dollar, pulling extra shifts just so I could pay my rent and afford my new membership at Best Rounds Kickboxing.

Tags: Shanora Williams Thriller
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