fear that I have in the back of my mind and as much as I try to steer it away, it always comes back. I can’t get away from it. It mocks me.”
This is just way too fucking easy, like taking candy from a baby.
“That’s natural. You’re a strong woman. You control everything and anything about you. That’s how you’re made.”
My blood runs in your veins.
“Love is a scary emotion.”
It makes you fucking weak and brings you to your knees. I know, I live it.
“You love him and he loves you; everything else will just fall into place.”
And that place is…and will be…you sitting at the throne, in The Cathouse.
The Madam.
It’s only a matter of time.
Tick tock.
Call it intuition or a sixth sense, but the second I saw her step out of the bathroom with straight hair and completely made up, I just knew. When I asked her where she was going and she replied that she was having lunch with Brooke, it added fuel to the fire, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I asked the concierges where the driver had dropped her off and I found myself driving toward the restaurant before I gave it a second thought. I saw her immediately and my heart dropped.
She lied to me.
I waited at the suite for her to return, trying desperately to control the anger that was rising. I needed to give her another chance; she had given me so many that I had lost count. When she walked into the room, I pretended like I wasn’t suffocating inside.
“How was lunch?” I casually asked, changing the channels on the TV.
“It was great; how was your afternoon? I missed you,” she stated, laying her head on my lap and looking up at me.
I played with her hair, which usually relaxed me. Instead, it brought back painful memories; I hadn’t seen her like that in what felt like forever.
“I missed you, too. I got everything done I needed to. How’s Brooke? Anything interesting happen?”
I could see it in her eyes; her eyes always held the truth. She contemplated what to say to me. She wanted to tell me. It was screaming and blazing through her mind.
Please don’t lie to me.
“Same ole, same ole. We’re going to have dinner with her and Devon Saturday night.”
I nodded. “Okay. Did she say anything to you about Madam?” I impatiently inquired.
Her head jerked back. “Why would you ask that?”
“Just curious. You’re in Miami.”
“Oh.” She hesitated. “Sebastian…I ne—”
The phone rang, cutting her off, and I irritably answered it. “Yes? Yes. Thank you for confirming.” I hung up and looked back at her. “You were saying?”
And just like that, it was gone.
“Yeah…no, I haven’t talked to Madam, and Brooke hasn’t said anything.” She lied.
She fucking lied to me.
I needed to get away from her. I couldn’t be near her right then. I didn’t know what I would do and it physically destroyed me inside. I wanted to shake her, I wanted to yell at her, I wanted to hurt her. I hastily removed her off me and told her I was going to the gym. As I ran on the treadmill, I thought about everything.
Was this my punishment? Was I getting a taste of my own medicine? Is this how Julia felt every time I lied to her?
I hated myself.
And it was the first time since I made my way back to her.
In that moment…
I hated her, too.
I didn’t sleep a wink last night and I sensed that Ysabelle didn’t, either. Maybe bringing her back to Miami wasn’t the best idea, but I couldn’t hide her from her past—it always catches up with you when you least expect it. Although, I had assumed that we were done with all of that.
Hadn’t we paid our dues?
I never thought she would lie to me. I also thought we were passed all of that.
Apparently, I was wrong…
I tried to understand why she would even have lunch with Madam–the woman was no good. She ruined her and took advantage of her. There was no love. I didn’t understand how Ysabelle could interpret anything that involved The Madam as anything more
This is just way too fucking easy, like taking candy from a baby.
“That’s natural. You’re a strong woman. You control everything and anything about you. That’s how you’re made.”
My blood runs in your veins.
“Love is a scary emotion.”
It makes you fucking weak and brings you to your knees. I know, I live it.
“You love him and he loves you; everything else will just fall into place.”
And that place is…and will be…you sitting at the throne, in The Cathouse.
The Madam.
It’s only a matter of time.
Tick tock.
Call it intuition or a sixth sense, but the second I saw her step out of the bathroom with straight hair and completely made up, I just knew. When I asked her where she was going and she replied that she was having lunch with Brooke, it added fuel to the fire, but I gave her the benefit of the doubt. I asked the concierges where the driver had dropped her off and I found myself driving toward the restaurant before I gave it a second thought. I saw her immediately and my heart dropped.
She lied to me.
I waited at the suite for her to return, trying desperately to control the anger that was rising. I needed to give her another chance; she had given me so many that I had lost count. When she walked into the room, I pretended like I wasn’t suffocating inside.
“How was lunch?” I casually asked, changing the channels on the TV.
“It was great; how was your afternoon? I missed you,” she stated, laying her head on my lap and looking up at me.
I played with her hair, which usually relaxed me. Instead, it brought back painful memories; I hadn’t seen her like that in what felt like forever.
“I missed you, too. I got everything done I needed to. How’s Brooke? Anything interesting happen?”
I could see it in her eyes; her eyes always held the truth. She contemplated what to say to me. She wanted to tell me. It was screaming and blazing through her mind.
Please don’t lie to me.
“Same ole, same ole. We’re going to have dinner with her and Devon Saturday night.”
I nodded. “Okay. Did she say anything to you about Madam?” I impatiently inquired.
Her head jerked back. “Why would you ask that?”
“Just curious. You’re in Miami.”
“Oh.” She hesitated. “Sebastian…I ne—”
The phone rang, cutting her off, and I irritably answered it. “Yes? Yes. Thank you for confirming.” I hung up and looked back at her. “You were saying?”
And just like that, it was gone.
“Yeah…no, I haven’t talked to Madam, and Brooke hasn’t said anything.” She lied.
She fucking lied to me.
I needed to get away from her. I couldn’t be near her right then. I didn’t know what I would do and it physically destroyed me inside. I wanted to shake her, I wanted to yell at her, I wanted to hurt her. I hastily removed her off me and told her I was going to the gym. As I ran on the treadmill, I thought about everything.
Was this my punishment? Was I getting a taste of my own medicine? Is this how Julia felt every time I lied to her?
I hated myself.
And it was the first time since I made my way back to her.
In that moment…
I hated her, too.
I didn’t sleep a wink last night and I sensed that Ysabelle didn’t, either. Maybe bringing her back to Miami wasn’t the best idea, but I couldn’t hide her from her past—it always catches up with you when you least expect it. Although, I had assumed that we were done with all of that.
Hadn’t we paid our dues?
I never thought she would lie to me. I also thought we were passed all of that.
Apparently, I was wrong…
I tried to understand why she would even have lunch with Madam–the woman was no good. She ruined her and took advantage of her. There was no love. I didn’t understand how Ysabelle could interpret anything that involved The Madam as anything more
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