SEVER, Jane, Melissa [e book reader .txt] 📗

Once I’m driving home, my chest heaving with sobs, I’m faced with yet another sickening thought. It all makes perfect sense now, and it’s more of a disturbing answer than I ever anticipated. The money Shawn’s taken from our joint bank accounts has to have gone somewhere, and now I know where—Sam’s new car, new house, new designer clothes. The bastard stole from me to give to my lying, deceiving sister.

~

The hot water feels like needles against my skin but it hurts less than the ache in my heart. Sobbing on the shower floor, I’ve lost track of time, my mind cruelly replaying their traitorous words and tender moments with each other. That night Sam had taken me out to Othello’s, she’d so cleverly masqueraded as a concerned sister, when in reality, she was fucking my husband behind my back, all in the hope of never being caught. And I wouldn’t have caught them had I not decided at the last minute to pressure Sam into answers. They just aren’t the answers I ever thought I’d hear.

I’ve been in the shower for quite some time. When I run out of tears and my heart turns numb, my fingers turn prune-like and my skin’s bright red, I’m still sitting, staring at the same tile with the slight wobble in the grout, dispassionately contemplating what course of action to take next.

My attorney can deal with the recent developments because I simply don’t have the strength to think about it.

The bathroom door opens but I’m too numb to even care, even though I should be alone in my apartment. Moments later, the shower turns off leaving me momentarily shivering until strong arms lift me off the puddled floor and cradle me close to his chest. The cologne is enough of a giveaway, and I sink into Kane Alexander’s arms, seeking the comfort I’ve so longed for but can only find from him alone. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I let him carry me, sopping wet, to the bed. Positioning me on the edge, he wraps a towel around my shoulders and dries my long hair with another. He’s gentle and nurturing while taking charge of the situation when he knows I can’t. Kane continues in silence until I’m fully dry, with my dressing gown pulled tight around my waist.

He kneels in front of me and my hazy gaze settles on his handsome, yet troubled face. He takes my hands in his, thumbs working rhythmic circles on my palms. “Blythe, you need to tell me what’s happened, so I can understand what’s going on here.”

I blink, freeing a fresh wave of tears. Just when I thought I was empty, having Kane with me seems to push me over the edge once more. I shake my head, unable to form the words needed.

Cupping my cheek, he kisses me, soft and tender, tasting my salty tears. When he pulls away, Kane’s forehead and nose touch mine. “The Blythe I know isn’t rattled by anything. So, who or what has you so shaken?”

I calm somewhat hearing the familiar, sexy rumble of his voice. Running my hand through his hair, Kane leans forward and kisses me once more, this time deep and passionate, his tongue meeting mine as he holds me in place, refusing to let go. A rumbling groan escapes his mouth as he moves further between my legs, spreading my dressing gown open until I’m fully exposed for him.

“I’m taking you to my place,” he states, breaking away for the briefest moment. I don’t need to answer because I’ll happily do anything this man wants. “Dress only for the car ride there. You don’t need anything else.”

I decide not to question him. A man like Kane Alexander has every breath under control, so I submit and let him do what he does best. Control.

And take charge he does.

With my hand wrapped in his, Kane leads me to his Lamborghini and drives to his apartment building. I stare out at the passing city lights, content to sit in silence. I don’t think about Sam and Shawn because my emotions are too raw. Instead, I allow my mind and heart to become numb. It feels so much better that way.

We pull up outside Spire, the tallest building on the Upper East Side. Of course, Kane Alexander would live here. It’s the only place fit for a king. Kane helps me out before handing his keys to the valet and greeting the doorman on the way through, keeping a protective arm wrapped around me the whole time. We take his private lift to the penthouse, the tension between us palpable. He’s being careful with me because he doesn’t understand what’s going on. He’s assessing how fragile my world is before forcing himself into it.

When the doors open, I gasp at its grandeur. Kane not only carries with him a large presence that leaves most in awe, but his lifestyle is just as huge. The man has taste, and I have a newfound respect for the man who’s obviously worked extremely hard to be where he is today. The polished marble floor spans to a giant glass wall showing a glittering display of the city beneath him. His passion for art is shown with the huge hanging masterpieces that in any other home would appear overwhelming, but in Kane’s abode, they’re almost dwarfed by the sheer scale of the walls. The dimly lit room suits my mood and once inside, Kane pulls me into his strong arms and holds me tight, his lips demanding mine.

“Whatever’s happened, you’re safe here,” he murmurs against my mouth. I shiver in delight, feeling his body engulfing mine. I feel so protected when he’s near.

“I need it to go away, Kane.”

“Make what go away?” he whispers.

“Them. I need to forget them.”

He hesitates to answer