Venal Vows (18+) PAUSED

𝐈𝐧 𝐟𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐠𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬

My favorite ride would be dick. My least favorite? boats.

Unfortunately, there are only two ways to get in and out of the island: ride a boat or ride a helicopter. The most convenient was a boat since Naghandom had at least one docked and ready at all times. Thankfully, it was large enough to put ample distance between Elizabeth and I. Otherwise, she would've been ten feet underwater with crabs deflating her fake boobs.

I pushed my sunglasses up the bridge of my nose. The waves were getting larger and seawater was ruining my mascara. To my left, Cyan was vomiting into a bag. To my right, Leila was busy with her work laptop.

My hair was clipped up. I was covered in a long flowy silk skirt and a cross between a knitted crop top and lingerie. I had a bag but the only things inside were my charger, my card, and perfume. Today's more a matter of leaving with none and coming back with bags and bags and bags.

The boat docked and I walked down the pier. Gurney's Star Island Marina is part of a larger resort and if I were to escape the island out of spite, it would be the next most convenient accommodation. A short walk revealed options for waterfront dining. Lunch with Elizabeth on a girl's day out was a disgusting concept. To my misfortune, it became reality.

There were six of us in total. Eli and her two friends, me, Leila, and Cyan. Having separate tables for threes was a mutual agreement. The seafood tasted marvelous, but I was getting tired of seafood.

Cars were also split per groups of three. We could just go our separate ways and save one another the cat fights. But that would mean that Dad's bodyguards would report exactly that.

Understandably, there weren't much places to go shopping at the Hamptons. Nor where there any good enough places that were practical to drive to. They were all on the other side of the city and we only had today's time. So, despite Elizabeth's wails about going to SoHo, we settled with a shopping center an hour away from the restaurant.

Cyan and I had one task: turn Leila into my father's sexy secretary. The fact that she didn't want us spending anything on her, protests against everything we pick, and keeps her hands to herself and not the displays was making the mission hard. Elizabeth, on the other hand...

"I hope you don't blow all my dad's money off for your cheap taste," I said, eyeing her multiple paper bags with names of stores I wouldn't even dare set foot into.

"Why wouldn't I?" she said, pushing her sunglasses up as a headband, "If it infuriates you this much, it's a double win."

I stared at her. Really stared. Her whole existence seemed miserable. From her crappy balayage, her one-year-old nose, her fake tan, her obvious boob job, her large feet desperately trying not to look like a man's by having glittery white polish, and her patterned dress which looks like a grandma's table runner. Everything she is and everything she does, for some reason, makes my blood boil. She's the epitome of my hate put in my way to taunt me.

"Scarlett..."

Leila said softly and hesitantly.

In my head, I was thinking of ten different ways to murder a woman and how to dispose her body afterwards. At the moment, I was leaning toward putting her pieces through a grinder then feeding the meat to pigs. It sounded nearly foolproof.

Elizabeth and her friends walked away, a smug smile on her face. I had to calm myself down with a fruit shake. Thankfully, Leila must've gotten the message that was mood was getting worse. Shopping with her became easier for the next two hours. If my dad and Leila would be away for three days of work, she'd need 20 outfits.