Prologue
Prologue-
He felt nothing for Isabelle Lancaster, his ex-wife, anymore. apart from shame, obviously, that he had ever associated with such scum. Everybody had warned him when he had married her with such haste, that soon or later, blood spoke, and her blood was from a stripper – a prostitute. Nikolas had been angry on his wife’s behalf then. But then, they had been right. Blood had indeed spoken and like a true hussy, his dear wife had decided to open her legs for the first man, she had been left alone with.
Now he was angry at himself and no one else.
But it was going to be over soon. After three years of separation from his volatile English ex-wife, Nikolas Dimitriou was ready to move on. This time he was going to marry a respectable Greek woman. A woman who would live amicable with his family and settle well into his life. Instead of turning it into a circus.
But there was one big problem. They still hadn’t signed the divorce papers. Deciding to go to London himself to dispose of this marriage and also pick up his three-year-old daughter so that she could attend his wedding, seemed to be a simple enough thing.
Except, a single look at Isabelle seemed to have opened a pandora’s box inside of him. There was poison everywhere and he loved it still!
excerpt –
“No! NO! NO! Nik, please don’t do this!” Isabelle’s voice shook as she stood there, tearing up more with the shock than anything else, as her estranged husband Nikolas Dimitriou, the world-renowned Billioanire, grabbed her by her neck and continued to forcefully remove every stitch of her clothing from her body.
“You can’t deny me this! You can’t dare to! How many men have you slept with in the last three years? Humm?” There was fire in his eyes, fire from the deepest depths of hell. And since he had been burning in it for the last three years, he was ready to give her a lick of it too.
He was ready to take his revenge at long last. “Nik, please. You don’t want this!” She tried deflecting, but he could feel her body pulsating, she wanted this as much as he did. As he tugged at her simple white bra, removing it in a single flick, to find her milky soft skin beneath, her soft mounds moulding under his hands and the two nubs standing to attention, instantly.
Nik laughed, “Shame, you didn’t say those words to that guy, you opened your legs for, when we were still married.”
“Now, it’s my turn!” Once again, his eyes burned with the kind of intent you see in a dying man, to be killed or ready to kill. Nic was doing both. “Get in the bed, while I get the condom.” Isabelle would have denied it, but she still could even when she wanted to feel the imprint of his body surging inside of her more than anything else. Her body in fact burning for it.
But she didn’t. Not when she knew what hung in the balance. “Tonight you will be mine, in my bed, screaming my name in pleasure whilst I wash away every single name on the long list of men you had slept with. Or tomorrow, I shall have the great pleasure of taking our daughter away with me to Greece forever. The choice is yours.”
It was easier to tell herself that she was doing this for her little girl, as she slowly moved towards the bed. Much easier than accepting that she still wanted him as much as she had wanted him three years ago. Her husband.