Free What He Reveals (What He Wants, Book Eight) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) by Hannah Ford

 
 
 
 
 
    WHAT HE REVEALS (WHAT HE WANTS, BOOK
EIGHT)
    By Hannah Ford

 
    Copyright 2015, Hannah Ford, all rights
reserved.   This book is a work of
fiction, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

 
 
 
    NOAH

 
    Regret.  
    It pushed forward like a dark wave,
threatening to overtake the carefully constructed wall that surrounded me.  
    As soon as I saw the look on Charlotte’s
face, as soon as I saw the hurt in her eyes, I wanted to take back what I’d
done.   I wanted to take back
ripping our contract up in a fit of anger and hurt that was more befitting of a
wounded boy than a grown man.   But
of course taking it back was impossible.
    Regret was not an emotion I was familiar
with -- I’d found it served no purpose. Once something was done, there was nothing
you could do to change it.   Regret
and disappointment did nothing other than make you feel badly about yourself,
make you second guess every choice you’d made, cause you to wonder if perhaps you
were damaged or defective in some way in order to have done whatever the thing
was you regretted.
    I had enough self-loathing inside of me
to last a lifetime.
    I didn’t need to pile on more.
    However, for the briefest of moments
after Charlotte walked away, I allowed myself to feel the disappointment that washed over me.   Although perhaps allowed wasn’t the
right word – I was powerless to stop it.
    Why had I done that?
    Because
you wanted to hurt her.
    Why would I want to hurt her?
    Because
she hurt you by not trusting you.
    It was shameful, to lash out the way I
had, to hurt the woman I was falling in love with.   I’d acted like a spoiled child.
    And when she turned and ran out of the
room, my heart split in two.   It
was a feeling so deep and profound, I’d almost forgotten I could feel anything that
was so immediate, so real.
    I called after her.
    But she didn’t respond.
    She kept moving, out the door and into
the club.
    “Shit,” I swore.
    I went after her.
    But the slave auction was starting, and
the men in the club were getting riled up, waving money in the air, yelling out
bids.   The music pulsed and the
lights swung over the crowd, flashing rhythmically, making it almost impossible
to see anything.
    I caught a glimpse of her long dark hair,
and I called her name again, but either she didn’t hear me or she didn’t
care.   And then she was swallowed
up in the crowd, disappearing into a throng of sweat and masks and desire.
    I became almost crazed at the thought of
her being alone in this place, this place I’d brought
her even though I knew it wasn’t good for her.   She wasn’t ready.   I’d done it just to prove a point, to show her I was in control, that if
she thought she was going to be able to hide something from me, she was wrong.
    My pride and my demons had put her at
risk.
    If anything were to happen to her, I
would never forgive myself.
    I would find her.
    I would make sure she was safe and get
her out of here.
    And then I would stay away from her.
    I was too damaged.
    And if she stayed with me, she was going
to get hurt.
    My heart ripped again at the thought of
not having her, of not talking to her, holding her, dominating her, loving
her.   But I reached deep into
myself and stitched it back together.
    The only thing worse than losing her was
destroying her.
    And if I stayed with her, that’s exactly
what I would do.

 
    CHARLOTTE

 
    My screams echoed through the room before
bouncing off the cements walls and coming back to me, almost like a
boomerang.   Through the light that
was filtering through the open door, I could see a dirty light bulb hanging
from the ceiling.
    It felt like a tomb.
    The man who’d opened the door   -- Audi James -- stepped inside and shut
the door behind him.
    The room was thrown back into darkness,
and I struggled to my knees, trying to stand up.   It was hard to do while being handcuffed.   The metal bit into my wrists and