Free The Fifth Avenue Series Boxed Set by Christopher Smith

Eric looked across the room at Leana.   She was dressing.   Behind her, Manhattan pushed up a glittering wall of glass and concrete.
    “Where are you’re going?” he asked.
    “After her, of course.”
    “Don’t you think you’ve done enough?”   He slid off the bed.
    “I’ve done nothing, Eric.   That’s the point.”
    He looked at her incredulously. “You call having Celina catch us in bed together nothing?   Are you out of your fucking mind?”
    “If what she said is true, I call it being set up.”   She slipped into her dress.   There was a tiny rip in the back near the zipper.    Earlier, Eric had torn it in haste.
    “You know you’ve ruined whatever chance I might have with her, don’t you?”
    Leana shot him a fierce warning look.   “This wasn’t my doing, Eric.   I’ve told you that.   Now, drop it.”   She stepped into her shoes, walked past him to the dressing table and fixed her hair.   She had to speak to Celina, she had to find out who had given her that message, she had to clear her name.
    A thought occurred to her while she brushed her hair.   Leana had always wanted to see her sister hurt—but never like this.
    “I’m sorry,” Eric said.   “I know you had nothing to do with this.   It’s just that—”
    “Apology accepted,” Leana interrupted.   He was drunk.   She didn’t want to hear him talk.   She just wanted to leave this room and find Celina.   Quickly.
    “Who told her?   Who knew we were here?”
    She looked at his reflection in the dressing table’s mirror.   “I’m not sure who told her.   But I intend to find out.”   She turned in front of the mirror, thankful that her hair covered the rip in the back of her dress.
    “I’ll come with you,” Eric said, and Leana noticed as she faced him that he had put on his pants.   The rest of his clothes were still on the chair beside him.  
    “You need to stay here,” she said.   “Celina can’t handle seeing us both right now.”
    She began to step past him.   And as she did so, Eric pulled back his hand and struck her hard across the face with the belt he’d been hiding behind his back.
    The blow took Leana by surprise and she fell to the floor.   Blood sprayed from her nose and mouth, and spotted the beige carpet.   Before she could defend herself, before she even knew what was happening, Eric was straddling her, swinging the belt, raining down blows on her thighs, shoulders, face and breasts.
    Her dress ripped from the strain of their struggling.   Her cries of pain and help echoed hollowly in the room.
    “You fucking bitch!” he shouted.   “You knew what she meant to me!   You’ve ruined everything Celina and I could have had together!”   He pulled back the belt and struck her once more across the face, leaving her cheek hot and swollen.   A dusting of red stars flowered before Leana’s eyes as she skated closer to the gray edges of unconsciousness. Somewhere, far in the dark corners of her mind, she realized the blows could kill her.
    And then Eric punched her.   Hard.   In the mouth.
    Leana forced herself to think through the daze.   If she tried to resist him, he would hurt her worse than he already had.   She tried to move her arms, but they were pinned beneath his knees.   And then her mind froze.   Eric was forcing her legs apart.   She felt his hand race up her dress and tear at her underwear.   His fingers clawed and searched.
    Leana struggled and was about to scream when Eric clamped an open hand over her mouth.   She felt wetness and smelled a heady mixture of Scotch and blood.   Her blood.
    Eric pressed his mouth against her ear.   “Just remember,” he said, as he ground his hips into hers, “you wanted this.”
    And then Leana unexpectedly relaxed against him.   Eric looked at her with such surprise that he involuntarily relaxed with her.  
    It was then that she made her move.
    She bit hard into his hand and shoved him off her when he