Page 133 of Ruthless Contract
Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back, letting the water fall over my face. For a little while, I didn't think about suppliers. I didn't think about weddings. I didn't think about Rome. I didn't think about anything.
I cleared my head and tried to relax. Once I felt less tense, I started washing my hair. Then I showered quickly. I’d just started rinsing off when the water began cooling. Turning it off, I exited the shower and dried myself in silence. I grabbed a clean towel and wrapped it around me, then blow-dried and moisturized my hair.
It felt like it took me forever to complete such a simple task. Once I was done, I combed my hair and braided it back into two ponytails, slicking the edges back. After that, I tied my hair down so I could wear it braided tomorrow, then left the bathroom.
I was done with this fucked up day. I was too tired to even worry about eating anything. With my towel wrapped securely around my body, I padded back into my bedroom barefoot.
I didn't even bother getting dressed. Pulling the covers back, I climbed into bed, still wrapped in my towel. My stomach growled. I ignored it. I'd barely eaten today, but the thought of walking back into the kitchen, fixing something, and then cleaning up afterward felt impossible. I'd rather go hungry.
I rolled onto my side and pulled the blanket over myself, closing my eyes. Just as I felt myself drifting off to sleep, my phone chimed. I let out a long groan and buried my face deeper into the pillow.
Please don't let it be another problem. Please don't let another branch call to tell me something else went wrong. I couldn't handle anything else tonight. Without opening my eyes, I blindly felt around on my nightstand, bumping the vase and lamp as I searched for my phone. It wasn’t there.Shit. I’d left it on the edge of the bed, right next to my purse.
“Fuck!” I groaned, rolling onto my back and sitting up.
That small act took more energy than it should’ve. I tugged at the comforter, dragging it toward me until my phone and purse were within reach. After placing my purse in my nightstand drawer, I checked my messages on my phone.
I had a message from an unknown number. I sighed. What now? What the fuck now? I considered not opening the message. But what if it was important?
“Shit,” I cursed as I opened the damn text.
I read the first line and wished I’d ignored that motherfucker. It read...
Juliet With Curves, let's chat.
-Romeo
Below the message was a link to a video chat. The same platform I used when video chatting with Rome. For a second, I forgot how to breathe. I read the message again. Then a third time.
Then I checked to make sure this was my phone because how the hell had he gotten my personal number? Then I remembered, this was Rome. Of course he could get a hold of my private number.
He'd texted my personal phone, and he'd called me Juliet. The cat was officially out of the bag. I mean, I’d suspected it. And I’d been waiting for him to act. Now that he was, I didn’t know how to respond.
The timing of this message couldn’t be a coincidence. This message plus all the shit happening in my shop, yeah, that shit had to be connected. Rome had to be behind my string of bad luck.
Petty ass!
Another notification slid across my screen. I immediately opened it.
If you don't click the link, the bad luck at your shop will continue until you no longer have a fucking shop.
-Rome
My heart ceased beating.
"So..." I whispered. "It really is you."
Every supplier that terminated our contract, every missing order, every fucking problem that plagued me this week was because of him. Most of our branches were suffering because of him.
"Fuck!" The word exploded out of me as I threw the covers back. "Fuck you, Rome!" I shouted into the empty cottage. "Fuck you and fuck your messages!"
I shot to my feet so fast the towel wrapped around my body slipped loose and puddled around my ankles.
Fuck that towel!
I turned on my bedside lamp and then yanked open the top drawer of my nightstand. My fingers immediately wrapped around the cold grip of my pistol. Pulling it free, I ejected the magazine and checked it.
It was fully loaded as expected. I slid the magazine back inside and placed the weapon on the nightstand.
