Page 18 of Damaged Beast
“Prime, this is Brittany Cole.” I usher in the first victim—I mean, potential wife. She strides into the room like she’s the favorite in the most fucked-up and bizarre beauty pageant imaginable.
“Hey there, Prime, been a while.” She stands before him with one hand on her hip, one leg in front of the other, posing like cameras are going to catch her best side.
Prime doesn’t show a single ounce of recognition.
The rat bastard.
To her credit though, Brittany’s completely unfazed. She’s blond, around five-three, with a fantastic body and an outgoing personality. They apparently met at a club one night when she was working as a bartender and she straight up quit her job on the spot to go home with him. She’s a former cheerleader, has a CPA degree, speaks two languages, and knows more about Rolexes and high-end sports cars than just about anyone I’ve ever met.
Of the three, she was the most up front about why she wants to go through with this. “Money, obviously. The sex might be good, but you’re telling me I get to get paid to put on nice dresses and go to fancy parties? Sounds like the opportunity of a lifetime.”
Prime lets Brittany stand in strained silence as he taps a pen against his cheek and reads the dossier I prepared for him. I sit in the corner, knee bouncing, all my energy directed toward keeping my mouth shut.
“Tell me…” He looks up. Brittany’s smile gets ever wider. “What kind of birth control are you on?”
I put my face in my hands.
But Brittany doesn’t even hesitate. “The pill, but we can discuss other options if you’d rather.”
“That’s fine. How tall is your father?”
“Uh, six-three, maybe?”
“Do you know how to fire a weapon?”
“I don’t know what that has?—“
“Can you dance the tango?”
She clears her throat. “I definitely can learn.”
Prime slings a dozen more inane and stupid questions at her before waving a hand like a king speaking to his court. “That’ll be all, thank you.”
Brittany turns away, her pageant-queen attitude deeply deflated. “How’d I do?” she whispers as I usher her out.
“Honestly? I have no idea.”
The next girl is Madison Reeves. She glides into the office wearing a navy blouse, her auburn hair in waves to her shoulders, carrying a very nice handbag and wearing shoes I’m pretty sure cost more than my family home. Her back is straight as she faces Prime.
“It’s great to see you again,” she says, offering a hand. Prime shakes reluctantly.
“You as well.” His eyes flick to mine and I can tell he also doesn’t remember her.Bastard.“Shall we begin?”
“I’ll get down to it.” Madison sits, knees together, hand clasped on her lap, the image of perfect etiquette. “I’m not looking for a forever partner. I’m looking for a worthwhile last name, and I think you can provide that. I want access to parties, people, and potential. I want to build something together. That’s what I’m after and why I’m here.”
Prime is bemused as he clears his throat and drags his pen down Madison’s dossier.
She’s here for a different reason. Madison has money already. Her family built a fortune in the adult entertainment industry.Her father owns a wildly successful porn company, producing films all over the world. But that money can’t buy access to polite society, no matter how desperately Madison wants it.
But marrying Prime might wash away some of the fuck-cash smear.
“If you become my wife, will your father cast me in one of his movies?” Prime asks, his face deadpan, and I could stab him in the throat. From that one glance at her biography, he identified her biggest weakness, and immediately called it out.
To her credit, Madison doesn’t blink. “Absolutely. I’ve had your dick in my mouth. I know you’re more than big enough.”
“I appreciate that.”
“But can you keep hard for two hours while twelve people fuss around you with lighting, sound, cameras, and make up? While a director is constantly altering your positions so a lens can get all the gory details?”
