Narrator pov
It was around six in the morning when he woke up, as usual.
Four hours of sleep was enough for him.
He checked his phone.
Jacob had texted:
_Got the dirt on James. Not a big problem. I'll handle it today and set up the deal.
He smirked.
How easily he was getting his new toy.
He hadn't even broken a sweat.
He put on his workout shorts and headed downstairs. His routine couldn't be messed up.
He ran every day to clear his mind.
Even a hint of sickness or tiredness could slow him down.
His eyes caught something white.
She was asleep on the kitchen chair. He shook his head in disapproval.
He'd go for his run. If she was still asleep when he got back, he'd deal with it then. He headed to the door. had to be back by eight. He glanced at the sky—it had been raining for a week.
matthew started running. Every few minutes, Diana's eyes flashed in his mind.
Her full, delicate lips. Her body. He bet he could have her under him soon.
He exhaled sharply and shook his head.
Minutes later, thoughts of that blue-eyed girl came back like a boomerang.
How she'd beg with those eyes. How she'd moan and scream his name.
How she'd squirm under his hands, chasing release.
He let out a long sigh.
No matter how hard he tried to distract himself, that damn girl was still in his head.
It wasn't like his mind was always on sex.
Whenever he felt the urge, Jacob found someone for him.
His job demanded focus. Getting attached to a person or a feeling was like poison.
He needed to calm down.
He headed back to the main mansion.