Book 2 He Cheated, I Broke Off
the Wedding
The southern United States had been drenched in a week of continuous rain, and I stood at the entrance of the club Fred frequently visited.
“Mr. Garner, I still don’t understand. In America, rich young ladies are a dime a dozen–anyone you want, you can have. Why marry a no–name artist?”
I wasn’t surprised, knowing the vast difference in our statuses. Fred’s circle of friends looked down on me.
“A rich girl is nothing like Luna,” he smirked. “I can make her do whatever I want. And besides, I love how she helps me with my baths.”
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“Mr. Garner, I can bathe you too, and I can massage your feet, rub your back. I’m a professional technician, after all!”
Fred pulled a woman dressed in a super–short leather skirt to him. “Oh? Does your technique compare to my fiancée’s?”
“I can do more than just massage feet better than her–I’m better in bed too. Don’t believe me? Try me.”
Fred’s gaze grew hazy, and he bit the woman’s ear, saying, “Alright, we’ll see what you’ve got tonight.”
“Mr. Garner, you really haven’t been with Luna for four years?”
“How is that possible? Mr. Garner, a man who’s been with countless women, can’t
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even conquer that innocent flower?”
The group erupted in laughter, and Fred scoffed lightly. “Well, tomorrow, I’ll taste her for myself.”
“Is that really why Mr. Garner is about to walk into the grave of marriage? Isn’t that a bit of a loss? You’re a businessman, Mr. Garner, you can have as many women as you want. Don’t do something foolish.”
“Mr. Garner, you can’t just ignore me like this.”
Fred downed his glass of red wine, sneering. “It’s just a marriage. Do you really think it’ll shackle me?”
“Luna is just a piece of clothing to me. I’ll wear her when I feel like it, and when I’m tired of her, I’ll toss her aside.”
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It was clearly September, yet I couldn’t shake the cold that made my body tremble.
Not only was my body drenched, but my eyes had inexplicably grown wet as well.
I quickly turned to leave but crashed into a solid embrace instead.
Looking up, I saw a man standing in front of me, wearing a dark trench coat, his body faintly scented with a fragrance that seemed almost imperceptible.
His amber eyes held an unspoken sense of intimidation.
It was Nevo. Mysterious and low–key, born into the infamous Mills family, a notorious gang. Rumor had it that this young master, ruthless and calculating, lived in the
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underworld–working on the edge of a blade, decisive and unforgiving. If anyone crossed him, they’d find a new hole in the back of their head by morning.
The city feared and respected Nevo.
He was Fred’s childhood friend. Fred,
fearless as he was, would still bow and greet Nevo with a “Mr. Mills.”
I lowered my head and apologized quietly, “Sorry, Mr. Mills.”
Nevo’s cold gaze met mine, sending a shiver down my spine as I tried to slip away from the gap between him and the wall.
But he only pulled me closer.
His breath was warm against my ear, his lashes brushing down as he sized me up and
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asked, “Not coming in?”
“No, I need to go home.”
I rushed to slip out from under his arm, but in the next instant, he had grasped my wrist with just enough pressure to keep me from escaping.
Feigning anger, I warned, “Fred is inside. I’l call for help.”
“You should’ve called already, Luna.”
He leaned in closer, his warm lips teasing, his breath mingling with mine as I struggled to push him away.
But to him, this back–and–forth felt like a
game.
The winner was him, looking down at me
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from above.
And he claimed his prize with a kiss.
I bit down hard on him, and a smile, lingering with unsatisfied amusement, spread across his lips.
“I’ll take you home, Luna.”
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