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This is what I needed to do. She was getting too involved, and things were getting too real. I mean, we were picking out fucking roses yesterday.
Who does that when it’s just a fake engagement? A fake wedding ceremony?
No one, that’s who. I shouldn’t have even let that happen.
And fuck it, what’s done is done. I fucked it up, and I did it well enough that she left…
At least she finally got to know the real me—a heartless, partying bad boy, who’ll never be a lovey-dovey motherfucker. Damn her for even thinking I could be changed into something different.
I pass Charles when I make my way back to my room, and he looks at me suspiciously.
“Hey, get this place ready,” I yell at him.
“For what?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.
“For a soirée. I’m fucking celebrating. I’m a free man now. No Vivienne to hold me back.”
He nods, hesitantly.
That’s right, loves, Debaucherous David is back.
