The Billionaire's Bitch

Sixty-Five

The rest of the week was excruciating.

Adrian would barely look at me, and he was more cold and distant than ever.

It was bad behavior and I wasn't about to reward it.

He didn't invite me to bed anymore and I wasn't exactly breaking down his door.

I had laid myself bare before him the night I'd left his bed; basically telling him I wanted and needed more.

So of course he had chosen to give me space.

Typical man.

When I wasn't working for him I buried myself in my writing like never before to try to keep from going insane. And I still emailed him my precious novel, "Diablerie", because I was determined he keep his word. He owed me at least that.

###

Adrian was stunned to find how much it bothered him, when his little Eve left his room in the middle of the night.

Who did she think she was? Defying him!

He owned her, what part of that didn't she understand?!

He was willing to give her everything, in time, and yet she pushed for more. She wanted it on her terms, she wanted it tomorrow.

And Adrian had been priding himself on his newfound ability to open up and let her in. How generous he was, how evolved.

He had expected her to be proud of his many accomplishments, also. He had expected her to fall at his feet, demure, perhaps, but docile and ready to be handled.

Her Declaration of Independence had come as a nasty shock to his male ego.

She balked. She protested. She complained.

She irked him to no end.

He was now plagued with constant fantasies of choking her whilst pleasuring himself inside of her, any way he chose.

Or perhaps a good spanking was in order.

No, better yet, he would starve her. That seemed like the most suitable, if least pleasurable, punishment that he could afflict.

He had no doubt she would come crawling back to him before the week was up.

###

At last it was the day of the wedding.

I half expected Adrian to tell me he didn't want me to come with him anymore, but I received a text the night before the event, confirming our date and time of departure.

It made me smile. So formal. So Mr. Kingsley.

I dutifully confirmed.

I considered phoning in my appearance, then quickly realized I wasn't about to turn down the opportunity to look ravishing in front of Adrian. Remind him of what he couldn't have, not until he learned to behave himself, anyway.

So that Saturday afternoon I took painstaking care in getting ready. I listened to upbeat pop music while fastidiously ignoring my sister's many text messages.

I started with a shower, then dried and straightened my hair. Then I curled my hair and back-brushed my roots, all of which got hosed down with hairspray then pinned artfully up with bobby-pins.

Like I said, painstaking.

Next, I started on my makeup. That alone would take two hours, I knew. I'd even watched YouTube tutorials and stuff.