Shattered Pieces (Undercover Elite Book 1)(10)

I make my way into the bathroom and look around, making certain he has provided all the items I need to get ready for tonight. True to his nature, he has. Everything I need, in every brand I use, is here and set up for me. I can’t put my finger on the whys of it yet but, for some reason, his in-depth knowledge of my preferences doesn’t give me the creeps. Instead, it flatters me. He is not just the first man who has taken this much of an interest in me, he’s first person… ever. Other than my deceased sister, Rhonda, no one knows me like this stranger with whom I’m apparently now living.

I lean back to allow the water to pour over my hair and squeeze shampoo into my hand to begin the task of lathering it up. It feels good to be getting clean and I find myself hoping that the beautiful gown fits. Who am I kidding? I have no doubt that it will. Everything the man does is perfectly precise. I hum as I continue showering, anxious for tonight and hopeful that I’ll finally get some answers.





Cash

Looking at the monitor as she undresses, I am immediately thankful I had the whole mansion rigged with cameras so I could watch her every move. Watching her lather herself up in the shower, I feel my cock stir. It has always been this way with her. Just the sight of her makes me want to throw her down on the nearest flat surface and fuck her senseless. I can’t ever remember a woman having this kind of effect on me and it seems the more I read in her journal, the more intrigued I become. I believe that’s part of what pulls me towards her—the fact that she intrigues me. Any other woman has been nothing more than a mere fuck. I didn’t care to get to know them. I decide to use the time she is getting ready to read more of her journal. It draws me in the same way a good novel calls your name when you are in the midst of your daily chores. I begin to read.

The plane ride back to the place that would be my new home was one filled with confusion. I watched as my sister’s body, racked with nausea, convulsed and rejected the lunch that she had just eaten. It was evident that the plane ride was not agreeing with her.

I watched with interest as my “new mother” cared for Rhonda, escorting her from the bathroom and back to her seat on the plane. I couldn’t ever remember a time anyone had ever nurtured Rhonda or me like this.

My new home was one filled with rules and structure and, needless to say, I didn’t like it one bit. I had been left to my own devices for the first six years of my life and the new routine was not sitting well with me at all. ‘Mom,’ as I rightfully called my new guardian, had corrected me about something and I ran down to the basement, which housed a coal bin.

I took my beloved teddy bear, Tom Tom, the only security blanket that I had ever known, and tore him apart. I watched as the stuffing floated down into a pile at my feet. I knew I would be sorry but that was the day that I learned how to say, “I don’t care!” It would become a phrase that I used to deal with the many losses that I would suffer in life. I would continually say it, over and over, until I believed it.

I stood there, looking at the pile of rubbish that just moments before had been my beloved Tom Tom and thought, “I wish I hadn’t done that.” I then followed it up with, “I don’t care!” Already, at the tender age of six, I was angry—very, very, very angry!





Chapter Five


Johnnie

I find myself fidgeting as I stand in front of the door, listening to his footsteps as they get closer and closer. Why am I nervous about seeing him? Why do I find myself hoping he thinks I look beautiful in the clothing he picked out for me? This isn’t like me. Normally, I couldn’t give a fuck less what any man thinks of me.

My breath hitches when the familiar beep warns me of his arrival. I look up to view a man who looks like he is going to a formal dinner. His black eyes rake over my body and cause a clenching in my lower abdomen. The black tux he’s wearing fits as if it has been tailored specifically for him. His white shirt stretches across his massive chest and has me wondering if the buttons would pop open if he moves the wrong way or flexes.

“I do believe this is the first time I have ever had the privilege of you checking me out.” I immediately feel my face heat with embarrassment.

“There’s no need to be embarrassed; I’m flattered.”

He takes my arm and hooks it in his as he leads me out the door and down the long, winding staircase to the dining hall.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper as I eye the long dining table laden with silver, china, and roses, complete with candlelight. I am glad when he leads us to the head of the table and pulls a chair out for me next to where he’s going to sit. The distance from one end of the table to the other would have been an awkward seating arrangement and my nerves are already on edge.