Addicted (The Addicted Series, #1)(36)

"Fuck off!" I reached into my purse to make sure my phone was there. I still had his tie . . . that tie. I pulled it out and threw it at his feet. "And you can keep your f*cking nasty tie!"

Sobbing uncontrollably, I turned and rushed down the stairs, nearly tripping in the process.



Tyler





I stared at the spot Victoria had vacated long after she left, wanting to go after her but knowing it would be futile.

She'd walked in at the worst possible moment, just as Candice grabbed my junk. I'd never be able to convince her that nothing was going on.

Candice raised an eyebrow in question while eyeing the tie on the floor. “Do I even want to know what the deal with the tie is?” she asked, breaking the silence. "What kind of kinky shit have you been up to, Tyler?"

I turned baleful eyes on her, my chest heaving with anger. "Nothing that concerns you."

Bitch.

Rage blurred my vision. I wanted to wrap my hands around her neck and choke her within inches of her life. I'd never, ever put my hands on a woman in a violent way, but she was pushing me to my limits.

Looking at Candice, I could tell it's something that she probably wanted. She’d love it, in fact. In some sick way, she was feeding off my emotions, getting off on them.

"You need to leave," I said flatly. "Now. Or I’m going to call the cops.”

I saw no use in trying to figure out why she was here or talking to her any further. It didn't matter anymore, and I should have thrown her out the second I saw her. But now, the damage was already done.

"Come on, Tyler," she crooned softly. "You're just mad right now. That girl . . . she was no good for you—"

"Get the f*ck out!" I roared.

Candice grew silent in the face of my wrath. For a moment, I feared she was going to stay, forcing me to have to take matters into my own hands.

"Fine," she said finally. "I'll leave . . . for now. I'll be back after I give you some time to calm down. You’ll come around, you’ll see. We have much to catch up on.”

She walked over to me and attempted to give me peck on the cheek, but I stepped away from her. "I'm going to make things better. I promise." She turned and strutted her way out of the room, trying her best to tease me with her swaying hips.

She failed. "And don’t f*cking come back!" I yelled.

I walked over to the bed and slumped down on it, resting my elbows on my knees and clutching either side of my head in my palms.

"I'm f*cked," I muttered.





Chapter 19





Victoria





“I hate to say it, but I told you so," April said the next day while we were preparing some of Christine's pristine spring designs for a show.

I groaned, eyeing a design, a particular ugly brown number that even a size one model would have to diet to fit in. "Please don’t, April. I really don’t need to hear this right now. On top of it all, I have a splitting headache."

I shouldn't have told her anything, I thought in regret. Now I will never hear the end of it.

As soon as I’d come into work, April accosted me. One look at my disheveled appearance, and she knew something was up. In fact, she knew exactly what was up.

Maybe it was my bloodshot eyes that were red from bawling my eyes out all night, or my perpetual scowl that I’d adopted when I woke up and realized I had to go to work when it felt like my soul was being crushed by an iron fist.

At first I’d deflected April’s questions to find out what was wrong, but eventually I broke down and told her.

Everything.

I wasn't sure why I did. I mean, I knew what was coming afterward. I suppose it was because I needed a shoulder to cry on. Since I was estranged from my mom, April was the only real female friend that I was close enough to confide in.

I'd lost contact with all my previous friends when I moved to the city to start my career, and I couldn’t just call them up to dump this in their lap after having not spoken for ages. Since coming to work for Christine, I’d discovered that friends were in short supply. It was hard maintaining friendships while being worked to death.

On top of that, I’d learned the hard way that there weren’t many people you could trust in the fashion world, with all the back-stabbing and gossiping that went on.

But April, and to an extent, Gabe, were cool. So far, she hadn't shown me the cattiness that most females that worked under Christine were known for. She had her quirks, of course, but who didn’t?

"What?" April protested. Today, April was dressed in a purple dress with a white belt encircling her waist. Matching white pumps adorned her feet. She looked cute, but then again, she always looked cute. Christine expected all of us to look great coming in to work. "But I was right, wasn't I? He was a manwhore all along. I mean come on, Vicky, how could you ever think he wasn't? The guy is filthy rich with movie star looks. Why would he want to settle down at his age? Besides, doesn’t he normally go for the A-list starlets?”

I scowled at April. "I didn’t think money or fame mattered when it came to love. Besides, he claimed to be attracted to me because of me, not my bank account, or lack thereof.”

April shook her head, eying a flashy green number. "You’re right. In some situations, money doesn’t matter. As far as looks go, you could’ve looked like Kate Upton and he'd still have cheated on you. Guys like that just don't respect women. You should know that.”