scenario of them making love for the
first time in her head millions of times since she was a teenager.
She had told him about her secret fantasies. Now it was obvious
that her fantasies would never come true, and she was deeply hurt.
There was a realistic chance she would break off their
engagement.
His engagement to Concordia was Perry’s
ticket for the ride into her family’s highly profitable business.
After their engagement had been announced, Concordia’s father,
William Shagger III, offered Perry to take over the position of the
manager in his multimillion dollar enterprise—after the marriage
with Concordia had been sealed, of course. The thought of having
his ticket annulled, of not having the chance to climb the social
ladder and step up from the bottom rung straight into wealth was
harrowing. All the years he had been working on seducing Concordia
and preparing her to become his would be gone in a blink of an
eye.
Concordia stared at her fiancé with outmost
wrath. This was it for her. This was the final straw. If Perry
intended to hurt her with his carelessness, he definitely shot an
arrow in her Achilles heal. Perry, her fiancé, the man she loved so
much, trusted and believed in, slept with her best friend Marianne
at their friend’s wedding party. Argh! Concordia wanted to run away
somewhere far, into the woods or to the top of the mountain, and
scream her anger to the world. And Marianne? Well, she had nothing
more to say to that bitch. Concordia wished that Marianne was dead,
or better—divorced after being married for three months and left
broke by her ex-husband. No spousal support! In Concordia’s eyes, a
short-lived marriage was the worse thing that could happen to a
woman. Worse than dying. Divorce was a public admittance of
failure. Death was just a fact of life.
She wished that the glass she threw at Perry
had landed on his head. It would have been just to see him bleed.
Bleed, like her heart was bleeding.
"You don’t have anything to say to me
anymore, Perry?" Concordia asked, her voice clearly burdened by
hurt and pain.
"I’m so sorry, Concordia," Perry said, doing
his best to let his vocal cords echo the remorsefulness and the
guilt he thought he felt.
"I’m so so truly sorry. I beg of you,
Concordia—forgive me."
Concordia wiped away the last tear that fell
from her cheeks, the last tear she would shed for this man. She was
going to cry no more. She was going to be strong and brave. Fuck
romance. She was going to survive, and have the time of her life on
the way.
She walked over to Perry and looked him deep
in the eyes, those wonderful blue eyes that were like two magical
waterfalls, innocently blinking underneath his sun-burnt straw
blonde hair. There would be no romantic first time with Perry, no
realization of her teenage fantasies in which she straddled him and
sat on his face, fantasies in which he rode her from behind and let
her suck on his gorgeous cock.
Concordia raised her right arm and slapped
Perry across the face with full force, catching his nose.
Perry’s upper body tilted to the side, so
strong was the blow. A few drops of blood fell to the floor,
staining the points of his shoes. He cupped the tip of his nose as
if to verify that it was really happening, that his nose was really
bleeding. Shocked and incredulous to see it was true, he gave
Concordia a frightened look.
"What the fuck?!"
Concordia smiled crookedly. "Serves you
right. Pity the glass didn’t hit your head."
"Fuck!" Perry exclaimed, collecting drops of
blood from his now profusely bleeding nose and shaking it from his
hand.
Concordia turned around and marched off to
the door of her living room.
"Where are you going?" Perry called in
despair, uncertain if the despair was greater over losing Concordia
or over losing the prospect of becoming wealthy. When she didn’t
answer, he became desperate.
"Come back here!" he called, staring at her
back. "I won’t let you
first time in her head millions of times since she was a teenager.
She had told him about her secret fantasies. Now it was obvious
that her fantasies would never come true, and she was deeply hurt.
There was a realistic chance she would break off their
engagement.
His engagement to Concordia was Perry’s
ticket for the ride into her family’s highly profitable business.
After their engagement had been announced, Concordia’s father,
William Shagger III, offered Perry to take over the position of the
manager in his multimillion dollar enterprise—after the marriage
with Concordia had been sealed, of course. The thought of having
his ticket annulled, of not having the chance to climb the social
ladder and step up from the bottom rung straight into wealth was
harrowing. All the years he had been working on seducing Concordia
and preparing her to become his would be gone in a blink of an
eye.
Concordia stared at her fiancé with outmost
wrath. This was it for her. This was the final straw. If Perry
intended to hurt her with his carelessness, he definitely shot an
arrow in her Achilles heal. Perry, her fiancé, the man she loved so
much, trusted and believed in, slept with her best friend Marianne
at their friend’s wedding party. Argh! Concordia wanted to run away
somewhere far, into the woods or to the top of the mountain, and
scream her anger to the world. And Marianne? Well, she had nothing
more to say to that bitch. Concordia wished that Marianne was dead,
or better—divorced after being married for three months and left
broke by her ex-husband. No spousal support! In Concordia’s eyes, a
short-lived marriage was the worse thing that could happen to a
woman. Worse than dying. Divorce was a public admittance of
failure. Death was just a fact of life.
She wished that the glass she threw at Perry
had landed on his head. It would have been just to see him bleed.
Bleed, like her heart was bleeding.
"You don’t have anything to say to me
anymore, Perry?" Concordia asked, her voice clearly burdened by
hurt and pain.
"I’m so sorry, Concordia," Perry said, doing
his best to let his vocal cords echo the remorsefulness and the
guilt he thought he felt.
"I’m so so truly sorry. I beg of you,
Concordia—forgive me."
Concordia wiped away the last tear that fell
from her cheeks, the last tear she would shed for this man. She was
going to cry no more. She was going to be strong and brave. Fuck
romance. She was going to survive, and have the time of her life on
the way.
She walked over to Perry and looked him deep
in the eyes, those wonderful blue eyes that were like two magical
waterfalls, innocently blinking underneath his sun-burnt straw
blonde hair. There would be no romantic first time with Perry, no
realization of her teenage fantasies in which she straddled him and
sat on his face, fantasies in which he rode her from behind and let
her suck on his gorgeous cock.
Concordia raised her right arm and slapped
Perry across the face with full force, catching his nose.
Perry’s upper body tilted to the side, so
strong was the blow. A few drops of blood fell to the floor,
staining the points of his shoes. He cupped the tip of his nose as
if to verify that it was really happening, that his nose was really
bleeding. Shocked and incredulous to see it was true, he gave
Concordia a frightened look.
"What the fuck?!"
Concordia smiled crookedly. "Serves you
right. Pity the glass didn’t hit your head."
"Fuck!" Perry exclaimed, collecting drops of
blood from his now profusely bleeding nose and shaking it from his
hand.
Concordia turned around and marched off to
the door of her living room.
"Where are you going?" Perry called in
despair, uncertain if the despair was greater over losing Concordia
or over losing the prospect of becoming wealthy. When she didn’t
answer, he became desperate.
"Come back here!" he called, staring at her
back. "I won’t let you
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