Betrayed By Him (Book Two in Paradise Mountains Series)

    She was the only one to blame for what had happened. Then, in the not so distant past, she had talked. And the weak had listened. She had been listened.     The b***h.     That had been his downfall. The beginning of it. He had been forced to leave, forced to abandon all wealth, all common grounds, for the sake of a blabbering child.     He would not make the same mistake ever again. No, no, no, no. One day, he would return. He would make her pay. Dearly. She would suffer, like he had. She would lose everything she had, like he had. She would be abandoned by all, like he had. And in the end, when nothing more would will her to life, when all seemed lost, he would kill her. Only with her ragged breath on his ears would he truly be alive. Only then would he feel avenged.     He put down the cigar, half consumed. His eyes travelled to the woman who was sleeping soundly in bed, a snarl of disgust escaping from him... She was nothing, and yet, she was everything he had. How low could he get?     For now.     For now, she would have to do. She was a tool, nothing more. A wasted, poor substitute, of a tool. But a tool nevertheless. She was as expendable as the others he had lined and polished throughout the years. The others he had trained and unleashed on the world. He had still contact with them, of course; it wasn’t as if he couldn’t reach any of them at any given time, but that would smell of weakness. No, no, no, no… that he couldn’t do.     He had to stick to his original plan. He had to stomach that piece of trash in the bed yet again and for the foreseeable future; but in the end, nothing would pleasure him more than to cut her throat and led her bleed to death.     But that was in the future, and he had the present to attend for. He could only get rid of that slut after his plans start to come alive. And for that he needed to be patient. And wait for the small seeds to sprout.     And because his plans were slowly starting to rise again, so did his manhood. He woke her up with his mouth, knowing that keeping her satisfied was keeping his plans in motion.     And one day, even she would recognize his grandeur.     Or not.     Either way, the pretty little miss perfect would regret the day she had been born.     And when the woman in his arms started to moan to his touch, he relinquished in his plans, his mind replacing her face with hers.     Perfect, little Cassie. Soon, she would be dead perfect, little Cassie.