The Avaricious | Book 3

09 | His Nature

tw; abuse/physical violence

"Don't know how I got here, but I'm all alone
And I've been wakin' up feeling as lonely as I was before, but"

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ELLIOT LY had the bedsheets fit for a king and queen. The type of satin and silk that kept you warm all while slipping promiscuously off of your body.

The fabrics hung loosely off of his naked body, wrapped around his torso and barely covering his manhood. An uneasy desire to run my hand down his chest overcame me, but I had to leave before he woke up. My friends always told me the proper way to leave a man in the morning is by leaving without saying goodbye. Lavinia would always mention that women must grasp any ounce of power they are given because men are always looking to strip that from us.

If it means walking out of them before they walk out on you, then it's an action that must be followed through with.

Gathering my clothes, I slipped quietly into the bathroom to change and figure out the mess my hair was in. Combing through my hair with my fingers, I heard Elliot stir in the bed, signaling it was my time to leave.

I took one last glance at the sleeping man before turning my head and leaving the apartment. 

◇

"How was it," William was seated on my bed, legs spread and his arms resting against his knees as he leaned forward. His hands were cupped together, one engulfing the other clenched fist.

His presence shocked me, but I tried not to show that. One heel was still on my foot as I had only just begun to remove my shoes. My dress strap was hanging off of my shoulders in a careless way. I was not physically prepared to see him. The fact my servants even let him into the one place I considered my safe environment was infuriating.

Sliding my dress's strap further up my shoulder, I kicked off the last heel, standing up straight. "What are you doing here."

William finally met my gaze, his eyes were dark as charcoal. It was nothing but unnatural. "So you spent the night?" Though it wasn't a question.

"And If I did?" There was no if. I did and we both could tell by the way my hair stood up awkwardly and my makeup was still smudged.

William stood up slowly, letting out a deep breath. He stalked towards me slowly. Was it wrong to say I was nervous? Straightening out my shoulders, I tilted my chin up. He looked... hungry.

"Estelle," He said lowly, coming to a full stop hovering over me. "Did you fuck Elliot?"

I could feel my heart speeding up, but whether it was with fear or excitement was beyond me. Common sense was telling me not to egg this man on. It was screaming at me to deny the accusation and just say it was too late to be driving home drunk. 

But I didn't. So instead, I peered up at him with a smirk on my lips. "And. If. I. Did?"

What an idiot I was; Angering a man. Angering someone that by nature, especially by his nature, was a boy who held enough silent rage to fuel a thousand cross-eyed bulls.

Before I could place any space between us, his hand was around my neck as he gripped tightly, pushing me back into the closed door with enough force to make the action involuntary. The excitement phased into fear, before being replaced with anger and then fear once again. The height difference was more intimidating with the minimum amount of space between us. I could smell the peppermint of his cold breath and see the fury in his dark eyes.

"You fucked my best friend, days before moving in with me?"

That snapped some common sense into me. Moving in? Respectfully, in the most honorable and mature way possible, fuck no. "Let go of me," I grumbled, trying to resist the urge to dig my fingernails into his skin. I couldn't ruin a fresh manicure.

But the grip on me only tightened. Where his hand was wrapped wasn't in a position where it would cut off my airflow, but that didn't change the pain from the sudden action nor the disappointment knowing he felt comfortable enough to put his hands on me in the first place.

"You fucked my best. fucking. friend, Estelle."

"And I liked it too," I growled, angrily saying anything I could to hurt him the way he was hurting me.

As if I had turned into yarn and faint stitching, William shoved me to the ground like a ragdoll, showing no signs of regret as I hit the floor and the stray high heel I had on moments before dug into my side.

Cursing bitterly, I tried desperately to use the fraction of a second to crawl away from him. What the fuck was happening to me?

I had mistaken William for the type of vengeful but gentle. The type to suppress his anger and eventually explode, not beat the shit out of someone when it was too much. I knew he was quiet and had problems, problems that I also mistakenly thought wouldn't have to involve me.

Since when had I become the one to take the hits so quickly?

I was becoming a distant shadow of my Mother before I could even see who I was myself.

"Don't come near me," I screeched, though it sounded like I was begging. "Don't you fucking get any closer!"

Once again, William ignored me, squatting down and looking at me like I was a child. He tilted his head as his expression softened. Although the glare in his eyes remained prominent as ever. "Did you act like a little whore when you fucked him too, Estelle?" What? "Were you as bitchy and loud?"

"What the fuck is your problem?" I cursed, ignoring the dress falling off my shoulders again.

"My problem is the fact I'm stuck marrying such a little, bratty, slut," He replied, his face straight and unwavering. "We're going to look at houses in 1 hour. Get yourself together and cover up your neck."

And then, just as quickly as he had come at me, he stood up and left the room with nothing else to say. All I had the energy to do was sit there and sob silently, curled up against the foot of the bed.