Authors: A. Cramton
2016 A. Cramton
All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher expect for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination.
Editing by Kim Ginsberg
Book cover designed by Melissa Gill from MGBookCovers& Design
Formatted by Formatting Done Wright
To my baby boy, little Josh. Everything I do is for you.
Table of Contents
4 am- Melanie Fiona
Pouring myself another glass of wine I stare out into the city’s lit up skyline. This view sold us on this condo. A view was on top of Marcus’s list of must haves. Too bad he’s rarely here to see it and we have been here for two years. He dragged me to Las Vegas from Los Angeles, and of course being the obedient fiancé that I am, I packed my bags and followed him. Also being the obedient daughter I am, I did it with a smile.
Frowning, I glance at the cold food and blown out candles on the dining room table. Today is our five year anniversary, and Marcus is nowhere to be found. Just like the last three years. It’s sad that I know it's coming, but I still go out of my way to make his favorite pasta dish and cheesecake.
I’m not stupid enough to believe he’s
, it’s already past midnight.
I laugh to myself as I play with my four-carat engagement ring.
Marcus Wellington, Heavyweight boxing champion of the world. I should be the happiest girl in the world right? I’m not. I’m the loneliest girl in the world.
My parents insisted since he came from a good family with a promising career that I say yes to his proposal. I should be grateful, my mother says. I’m sure Marcus only asked because of who my family is. St. Cruix is a big name in the sports industry. I am the odd duck in the family, I had no interest in the business. I honestly had no idea who Marcus was until my parents introduced us years ago. I still don’t keep up with his career or sports in general. Which is probably the way he likes it, because he actually thinks that I have no idea what the press says. I know he cheats. Why do I stay? Because I am my parents puppet.
I pick up my phone and call Marcus for the fifth time. Of course it goes straight to voicemail. No shocker there.
Sighing I start to clean up the table. He won’t be home tonight so I know better than to wait up.
After loading the dishwasher I grab the bottle of wine and make my way to our bedroom. The bedroom where nine times out of ten, I’m sleeping alone.
I debate on calling my best friend, Chelsea, but decide not to. I don’t need to hear her opinion right now. All she does is voice my thoughts. No matter how unhappy I am I can’t bring myself to let my family down.
Instead of letting my mind wonder what slut is riding my fiancé’s dick, I fill my glass and turn on my Kindle. If I can’t have my own happily ever after, then I’ll live someone else’s. My life is sad, I can only blame myself.
The bedroom is bright when I wake, I fell asleep reading. Marcus’s side of the bed looks not slept in. He didn’t come home as I predicted.
I need coffee. I roll out of bed yawning and slip on my robe. I’m sure my hair looks crazy, but fuck it, I have no one to look good for.
I stop in my tracks on my way to the kitchen. Marcus stands in the living room, staring out the large window. He is still in yesterday’s clothes, his short brown hair ruffled. He looks like shit.
Like every other morning, I ignore him and make my way to the kitchen to start the coffee maker.
“Make me a cup.” No good morning. No apology for missing last night. Just a demand. Such a prick.
I roll my eyes and don’t respond as I grab an extra mug.
The clock reads ten oh four. This is new, he actually made it in before noon. Barely.
I set his black coffee on the counter. “Here you go, dear,” I say sweetly.
He turns and narrows his blue eyes at me. “Don’t start your shit, Madison. I had a rough night.”
I smirk, “I’m sure, Marcus.”
He ignores me and picks up the mug, taking a seat on the stool in front of me. He starts scrolling through his phone and that’s my cue that our conversation is done. Thank god.
We drink our coffee in silence. Marcus grunts here and there, I assume he’s going through emails or something the press typed up about him.
My phone vibrates, It’s a text from Chelsea.
Chelsea: Let’s go out tonight. Don’t say no. You need this, bitch!
She’s right, I do. Usually I would make up a reason to say no.
Me: I’m down, come over at eight to get ready :)
“I’m going out with Chels tonight,” I tell him.
Marcus snorts. “Whatever. I’ll probably be at the gym most of the night, I have that big fight coming up in a few months…..” And that’s where I stop listening. We both know he won’t be at the gym most of the night, and we both know I don’t care about his upcoming fight. My job is just to show up and look pretty.
I force a smile. “Well, don’t train too hard.” I try to sound concerned, but I fail.
“You’re so full of shit.” Marcus laughs. I shrug, no point of denying it.
He stands up. “I’m going to hop in the shower, I’ll see you later. If not, be safe. Call Ray if you need a ride later.” Of course he wouldn’t say to call him.
I nod and watch him walk away. I’m engaged to an asshole. He may be a hot, rich asshole but he’s still an asshole.
My phone vibrates again.
Chels: Wear something sexy with those red heels you bought the other day.
I smile. For the first time, I can’t wait to go out. I can do whatever he can do, right?
I’m Madison St. Cruix, of course I can.