don't say goodbye to Marissa as I head out, but I do give her ass a smack. The satisfying sound makes me grin widely, and I slam the door shut behind me.
I head down the stairs to my studio. I've come a long way in the year that has passed, from a street artist to a homeowner, complete with my very own studio where I sell stuff, too. And I'm doing better than ever.
"Nox!" a pleasant voice greets me, and I turn around in time to see the door of the store opening and my benefactor walking in.
Thom Hodge dragged me up from the shithole I'd put myself in. He's the one I should thank every day for getting me where I am today—a successful, up-and-coming artist. And how do I thank him?
Marissa strolls down the stairs, out of breath and reeking of my cum.
"Hi, Daddy," she says, blushing furiously.
Hodge smiles widely, greeting her with a, “Hello pumpkin,” and a wide smile. The guy is fucking clueless—or at least he pretends to be. When I met his daughter, she was eighteen, and I had her in bed in a matter of hours. I've fucked her every day since then, multiple times per day even, yet he's none the wiser. Fucking idiot.
"We were just upstairs looking at some numbers," she gushes quickly, trying to get her tight little ass out of trouble. She accompanies her story with a sweet, nervous smile, and the boss man smiles back.
How ignorant can you fucking be?
"Nox," Hodge begins, beckoning me over.
I still haven't gotten used to the fake name I've made up for my new life. But I can't be Parker Miller anymore. Besides, nobody cares about that guy except for maybe the pretty little socialite who I put my mark on all that time ago. I still think of Dove sometimes. She was a good toy to rape. A good set of holes to abuse. And I knew she craved it. I hope she's embraced the darkness now. Embraced it as her home as I have.
Nox, my name, feels foreign, but like home at the same time. And at least this way, I remain anonymous. There's no chance of running into anyone I used to know, not here, not like this.
Despite my new life, Kade and June are still on my mind, every hour of every day. I see them in magazines and tabloids, the shots of June's perfect long legs with my brother next to her like a motherfucking dog. She's a socialite now, and he's taking care of the company. Their baby, Theo, is a cute little toddler, and he looks just like June.
He has my father’s middle name. That pisses me off even more.
I heard they got married, too. But I can’t wait to change that. I'll turn little sis into a widow soon enough.
I can't believe society just accepted the fact that they're together now. Fuck, he's her stepbrother, but no one seems to give half a shit. Still, it bodes well for me after I get rid of my twin. It means people won't judge June and me together, either. And that's a goddamn relief.
I try to get back to reality, even when I feel the red mist settling over my eyes. This time, I fight it back, though. I've gotten pretty good at doing that.
"What is it, Hodge?" I ask the boss man, my tone rough. You'd think I'd be nicer to the man who saved me from the streets, yet I despise him with all my heart. Maybe it's because he's such a weakling. Not even noticing I'm burying my cock in his kid's holes every night...
"I have an opening in a gallery next week, and you're my first choice," he says, beaming. "I want you to show the new stuff, you know—the canvases you showed me last week."
I furrow my brow, unsure of what to make of this. I usually choose my own shows.
"What gallery?"
"Gaze," he says, and I recognize the name as one of the most influential galleries at the moment. I know artists who are killing themselves trying to get in, and here's my chance offered on a silver platter. I think it through for a moment, but I already know what my answer will be. I'm already imagining the money it will put in my pocket, and it will only get me closer to my goal.