Grace Street
(A Chapter 8 Novel, #1)
Copyright © Ella Dominguez 2014
All rights reserved
Published at Smashwords
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Dedication
To the most wonderful & precious people in my life - my daughter, husband, mother & family.
Acknowledgements
To the fantastic group of beta readers I’ve been blessed with, who gave up their spare time to help me and on short notice – THANK YOU! (although thank you’s don’t seem like enough): Gwen from G Book Diva Blog, Yvonne, Christina, Terri T. from My Book Boyfriend Blog, Terrie A., Monica, Becki, Dorothy & Gabby.
Gratitude, ‘kindness & smiles,’ sent to CL Smith of Go On Write (www.goonwrite.com) for this beautiful cover and the many others he has provided me with.
To Mallory M. for her assistance and friendship. I wish her the best of luck in her new endeavors. Your Mama Toon loves you!
Much love to my coworkers for their encouragement. I’ll miss each and every one of you. I’ll be creeping on your FB pages daily. You’ve been warned. ;)
Thank you to all of my loyal readers for putting up with my indecent writings and sense of humor, and whose kind words and support are what keep me going.
To the new readers who have given me a chance to prove myself – thank you.
Contents
Acknowledgements
Prologue
1: Deliberate
2: Intentions
3: Calculated
4: Premeditated
5: Anticipation
6: Rules
7: Hesitation
8: Unpredictable
9: Exacting
10: Challenging
11: Respite
12: Layers
13: Absence
14: Details
15: Eye-Opener
16: Bared
17: Light vs. Dark
18: Obsession
19: Invested
20: Clash
21: Wrath
22: Resilience
23: Possession
Other Books
Prologue
Victor tossed his jacket over the back of the curved white couch, and threw himself onto it. His solid, lean body sunk into the leather as he laid his head back and closed his eyes. With his mind racing, he suddenly jolted upright and reached for the journal on the abstract-shaped table only a foot in front of him. Just as he began scribbling furiously into it, his phone rang out. C7 lit across the screen.
Would this bullshit never end? Letting out a heavy sigh, he answered, his deep, baritone voice clipped with agitation. “Why must you persist with this?”
“Please, Mr. Black, I need to see you,” a shrill female voice choked out.
The corners of his mouth twisted upward into a wicked, satisfied grin. “I can only imagine the pain you’re going through.”
“Please, just one more time. Please…” she panted out in a tear-smothered voice.
He shuffled the phone between his hands, contemplating what to do. He had already granted C7 a goodbye fuck just before heading home. For fuck’s sake, he could still smell her cunt all over him.
“I already made you come once tonight. Don’t be greedy,” he shot back with his usual coldness.
“I am greedy! I want you!” she yelled into the phone, the panic in her voice vibrant and chilling.
Her high-pitched tone and obvious alarm grated on his nerves. She was unstable and volatile, two characteristics he had no patience with or time for.
Without emotion he responded, “No, I’m done with you. Move on.” When she began to cry, he momentarily paused. He knew she was capable of doing something rash and he didn’t want or need the drama. “You agreed to our arrangement, Em. Remember?” he said only slightly less frigid than before.
“How could I forget, you cold-hearted bastard, when you constantly reminded me of that? But I need more time with you. Just a little more time. Please, Mr. Black, I need more time to prove myself worthy,” she began to sob uncontrollably.
He seriously didn’t have time for this shit. Hell, he had already wasted too much of his precious time on her already. She would never prove herself as anything other than a major pain in the ass.
“Time’s up,” he stated with finality as he hit the end call button.
Guilt coursed through his veins for only a split-second, and somewhere deep in his blackened subconscious the word asshole flashed in bright neon lights. Without another thought to it, he brushed it aside. He had no room for remorse in his life. It was useless and only complicated things, and ‘complications,’ immaturity and people who didn’t do exactly as he said, didn’t fit anywhere on his agenda.
He reached for his journal again and flipped to the page he had been jotting down his closing thoughts on his most recent test subject and finalized his entry.
Chapter 7– Game over.
Now that things were officially finished with Chapter Seven in his mind and on paper, he had important matters to attend to. Calling his realtor, he confirmed his meeting at The Grace Street Brewery and reached for his jacket again. He glanced optimistically at his journal one final time before leaving.
With any luck, the next Chapter would prove herself more valuable than the others and worthy of his time and effort. Perhaps she would provide him with everything he wanted and needed in a plaything. Hopefully, the next Chapter would be the one shining pupil in his long line of failures. Maybe, just maybe, the next Chapter in his life would finally see him for who he really was and allow him to let all his demons loose on them.
1: Deliberate
It was always darkest before the light and, God, how Elsa needed the light. It had been dark for so long, she had nearly forgotten what the warm feeling of happiness felt like. She needed a new beginning and a new life. Not one to normally run from her problems, she had done that very thing in hopes that Richmond would provide her the change that she so desperately yearned for. It was time to move on and start over and there was no time like the present.
As she drove to The Grace Street Brewery, she reminded herself to stay focused and to remain lady-like at all times. That meant taking it easy on the chardonnay.
When she entered the large establishment, she heard her name called over the loud din and live background music and turned her head to see Vivien, her neighbor, waving her over to the bar. She smoothed her cream-colored pencil skirt over her thighs and strode over to the bar with her long, slightly-curled, henna red hair swinging around her shoulders. Seating herself, she promptly ordered a cranberry-orange sangria, sans alcohol. The last thing she needed was to get lit so early on.
The atmosphere was invigorating. She had only been on Grace Street twice before but somehow, she felt like she was in her element with all the different shops, restaurants and old brownstones lining the street. “I love the energy here. It feels like home,” she half whispered to herself. Facing her neighbor, she thanked her and returned the smile that Vivien was giving her. “Thanks for inviting me out.”