He cares about me.
I’m more than an employee or a plaything.
I’m his.
“Win,” I whisper against his lips. “I lo—”
“Don’t.” He nips at my bottom lip, silencing me. “You don’t.”
“I do.”
“No, Cinderelliott, you don’t. You’re just infatuated. Thankful. But not that.”
“I’m not a child.” I glower at him.
“Your driver’s license proves otherwise.”
“I’m eighteen, dumbass.”
“Eighteen. Still a teenager.”
“A teenager your old ass is paying to fuck!”
“Exactly.” He grabs my hips and all but tosses me back into my seat. “We have an agreement. You please me, and I pay you.”
“Maybe I don’t like those terms anymore.”
“You don’t get to renegotiate a better deal,” he snaps back, rippling with anger. “Your college is paid for. I gave you a car. A fucking yacht. A whore apartment. Your bank account is loaded. I babysit your goddamn bird and employ you at my company. What more do you want from me?”
I swallow down the ball of emotion that now sits in my throat. “Everything.”
“Greedy fucking girl.”
He starts the loud engine, effectively ending the conversation. I buckle in and cross my arms over my chest, trying hard not to cry. I’m not crushing on him. It’s more than that, and he knows it. I certainly don’t feel things are one-sided either.
Winston Constantine is in denial.
One day he’s going to have to face the facts.
He’s falling for me and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it.
23
Winston
She’s insane.
There’s no way in hell she loves me. She can’t. This is our game. Our fucking fun. Not love. Love can’t exist in the Constantine world. That was proven at Dad’s funeral. The love that does exist is more of a bond by last name—a loyalty to blood.
Ash forgets she’s not the real Cinderella, and I’m most definitely not her Prince Charming.
She’s a fucking maid.
I’m CEO of a billion-dollar company. Bored but so fucking rich I can pay for the kinkiest of services. All of which she gladly signs up for as long as the money comes through.
This is a transaction.
So why in the hell are you trying so hard to convince yourself, dumbass?
I ignore the argument in my head. As much as my stupid heart likes the idea of keeping Ash in my world as more than a sexy playmate, I can’t. She’s a liability. A goddamn risk. The Morellis already know she’s something to me. It’s why we can never be more.
My skin tingles with a mixture of fury and confusion. I’m mad that she would try and toss out those words so carelessly.
Love.
Ridiculous.
She’s not in love with me. The girl has had all of one serious boyfriend. There’s no way she could even begin to understand what real love is.
And you can, Constantine?
My only witness to love is my parents. Dad adored our mother. He spoiled her with gifts and attention and praise. Protected her at all costs. Defended her if anyone stood against her. Supported her in all her endeavors. He gave her everything she could possibly want or need and so much more.
We don’t have that.
Liar.
I chance a glance at Ash. She’s still fucking pouting with her arms crossed over her chest. Of course she looks good enough to eat in her tiny black dress. Whatever shampoo they used on her at the salon is to fucking die for. I crave to yank her back into my lap, bury my nose in her silky tresses, and inhale her scent. She’s more addictive than those damn red gummy bears.
Her phone rings in her purse. She digs around and pulls it out to answer.
“Hey, Dad—”
Words are sucked out of her throat at whatever he says to her. Her palm goes to her mouth, covering it as though she’s shocked at what he has to say. She nods even though he can’t see her.
“Okay,” she whispers. “Love you too.”
As soon as she hangs up, she snaps her head my way. “Win, what did you do?”
“Regarding . . .”
“Don’t be dumb.” She smacks at my arm. “The triplets.”
“I said I took care of it.”
“You didn’t explain,” she huffs.
“They hurt you,” I growl, sounding more like my father than I care to admit. “And they had to pay for that.”
“I don’t know how you managed this, but Dad said Scout was in big trouble for driving under the influence. All of them sustained similar injuries to their knees from the crash.”
“They won’t be playing lacrosse.” I laugh, dark and cruel. “No Harvard. No lacrosse. No cars. No mommy to save them.”
She winces. “You did something to Manda?”
“Manda did it to herself. All I did was expose it. She’s going to have to answer for some surgeries gone wrong. It’ll keep her busy and bleeding money while her sons sit in fucking jail for a bit.”
“You did all this for me?”
I let out a derisive snort. “Don’t read into it, Cinderelliott.”