Finnegan
"She’s ho, sir," Jas’ voice filtered through the receiver.
"Good." I turned from the window, dragging a hand through my hair, my shoulders sagging in relief. I had sent him to make sure Abigail got ho safely. "Thank you, Jas. Get so rest."
"Goodnight, Boss."
I ended the call and set the phone on the console table before turning back to the floor to ceiling window trying to get my thoughts in order.
New York was spread out below the penthouse, hundreds of lights glowing in the distance. But nothing could ease the noise in my head.
Should I have insisted she stayed?
I wanted to, Christ, I wanted to rip off that top and continue what we had in my car. I finally found Red after all these months, I finally fucking did and the drive to tie her to my bed and spend the rest of the week buried in her cunt.
It felt too damned fast. There were too many things at stake. I couldn’t do anything that would jeopardize Angel. Neither did I want Victoria getting a whiff of this trying to break down the empire I had built.
But I wanted more. God knows I wanted more than just sex, I wanted the strings attached. I was greedy when it ca to Abigail and it terrified the crap out of .
We had only just agreed to having a relationship, her spending the night in my bed was too fast.
Yeah sure, so was fucking her in my car seat like so depraved sex addict.
Maybe I was addicted. Addicted to her. Fuck, I finally had her, my Red, my Aphrodite, the sa woman all along that I had been aching for and I was bloody overthinking things again.
I pressed two fingers to the bridge of my nose. No it was better this way. I hadn’t divorced Victoria yet, I couldn’t be in too deep with her. I had a itch and she scratched it, God, she scratched it so fucking good.
My car had bounced with each maddening thrust I drove into her hot tight cunt just a few hours ago.
She had felt divine, fuck! My cock twitched hard recalling the way she had lapped up her juices off my cock, sucking and moaning, her pretty blue eyes glazed over with pleasure as she ran her pink tongue over the condom.
I should have insisted that she stayed the night. Why the fuck did I let my brain get in the way? How was I supposed to last all day tomorrow with balls as blue as the sky?
I eyed the phone on the console. Should I call her to co back?
"Have so bloody self control," I grunted, trying to smack so sense into myself.
Abigail’s words ran through my mind, stalling every other thought as anger coursed through my bones. It was completely believable that my mother would ask her to do sothing like that.
Mother had always been controlling. She always wanted things going her way, however, whenever and in whatever way she desired it.
Hadn’t I tried enough? I had always obliged her even when I shouldn’t. The trip to Japan, I could have refused, I should have refused dammit.
She had also made the decision to sign up for so interview without my permission and arranged for my office to be remodeled. And let’s not get started on the complaints about the car launch recently.
Was anything I did never good enough for her?
I was sure Abigail wasn’t the first of my assistants that she had bribed. She was just the only one to be brave enough to tell .
How many of the others had taken mother’s money and said nothing?
I snatched the phone off the console,dialing her number with rapid taps.
She answered on the third ring. "Finnegan. It’s late."
"How many?" I demanded.
"You’re going to have to be specific. Is this so sort of ga?" She replied in that familiar dry, arid voice she reserved only for and that only grated on my nerves.
"How many of my assistants did you bribe to have your way, Mother?" I asked as coolly as I could, keeping my voice levelled. Getting agitated was exactly what mother wanted.
"I’m not sure," she said finally after a long pause. "whether to be impressed or annoyed that your assistant has such a blabber mouth."
My eyes snapped close. That would an all of them.
"Everything I do," she said crisply, "is for the good of Wolfe Empire. Your schedule affects the company. The company affects ."
Could she hear herself?
"If you wanted my schedule, you could have asked ."
Mother huffed, giving a haughty laugh. "And you would have shared it with ?"
"That’s not the point." I moved away from the window, my feet sliding against the rug. "You compromised my staff, my office. How is that for the good of the Corporation? What about , Mother? Is it just the company you care about?"
"Don’t be dramatic." She scolded as if I were a bumbling kid with snot dripping down his nose.
I stopped in the middle of the room, gripping the phone tightly. "How much lower, Mother, how much lower do you have to go? If Devin and I weren’t twins I’d assu I was adopted."
She said nothing on the other end and like a fool, I made the mistake of continuing to speak.
"I have run this company for fifteen years. I have grown it beyond what Father built, beyond what you projected, beyond every target you set. At what point does that beco enough for you to trust that I know what I’m doing-"
"Are you done? I’m tired,"
My grip tightened around the device. She had said that so nonchalantly, as if my words had no aning.
"It’s late and I’d like to go to bed. Don’t botch the interview I arranged. And I’ve already dealt with the decorator situation because I’m sure your assistant will blab about it to you as well."
The line went dead leaving frozen in the middle of my living room, seething with rage.
Nothing I did. Not one thing, not in fifteen years, not ever, would be enough for Gina Wolfe. Devin was her precious son, and sohow, I knew my mother wished I had died in that accident instead of Devin.
I knew it when she rushed into that hospital to identify his burned battered body, while I was half way across the world on a business trip, she had desperately wished that the body in that bed was and not Devin.
The phone buzzed in my hands. A text from Mother lit the screen and it only had my blood boiling.
"Throw all the tantrums you want but make sure you show up for him next month."
What did she an by-oh shit. I swiped quickly to my calendar, going through the dates, dread rushing over like ice cold water.
It was that ti of the year again.
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