Fucking Christ.

If you're still with me and you don't hate me after what just happened, then you're a fucking saint.

Because right about now, I feel like the lowest piece of shit around.

I deserve to be with this fucking woman next to me. With this harpy from hell.

"Ready, dear?" Lorna says to me, getting up from the table.

She doesn't even look backward; she's walking toward the door. Her ass is swaying and I even catch a few of the men seated around the restaurant stare at it as she walks by them, but I swear to fucking God it does nothing for me.

Once Becca stormed off, I had the chance to be the man that could look at himself in the fucking mirror.

I could have gone after her and taken her in my arms and told her that she never needed to worry about me. That if she wanted to I'd drop everything.

But I didn't.

Because big bad Mason Kane is a fucking coward.

You heard that right.

The King of Wall Street is a lowly piece of fucking pond scum that can't even reassure the woman he loves. And yeah, I fucking love her. I realize that now.

But to save my company, to save everything I built, I'm following the woman I hate outside the Four Seasons.

The rain is coming down by now pretty hard and we wait underneath the awning as Lorna's limo arrives.

"Let's go to my place, dear," Lorna says with a lascivious smile. "Becca's moved out so we can really break the place in."

I don't say anything at all because I'm afraid if I start talking I'm going to say something I fucking regret.

Instead I get into the limo after Lorna and sit down, my mood darkened.

Remarkably, Lorna does not jump me the moment the door to the limo closes. No. I know, it's a fucking surprise to me too, and honestly, a good one. Maybe the only good surprise in an otherwise fucked up situation.

I mean, I know where we're headed. I know what she expects of me. She's been very upfront with her desire. I just haven't thought about it.

Instead of jumping on me, Lorna sits across from me. She crosses and uncrosses her legs, wantonly hiking up her skirt to give me a better view of her inner thighs.

On Becca, I would be hard in an instant. Hell, the car would be rocking back and forth by now.

Instead, all I can think about is the look of abject hurt on Becca's face when I told her that I couldn't leave. That I had to stay for dinner. That I would probably be going home with Lorna.

All I can think about is Becca's body as it trembled as she realized that I was going to place the survival of my company over her feelings.

Listen, I hate it when you look at me like that, alright, Gorgeous?

This is Wall Street. This is business. You don't have time for feelings.

I have a fucking fiduciary duty to my shareholders. To the people who rely on me to keep the company running. There are people with retirement accounts, both investors and fucking employees. Their families.

The car stops outside Lorna's townhouse and the driver opens the door.

She gets out first.

That's her shaking her ass at me as she exits the limo.

Fuck. I need to think about the college tuition that people who work with me are saving for. The 529 Savings plans.

We walk into the main entrance and Lorna wastes no time.

She turns around and pushes me toward the entrance to the living room. I let her push me back until I'm back on the sofa on my back.

Same as the last time I was here.

Fuck.

Think of the fucking people that rely on me for their paycheck. Their livelihoods. Their families. Their kids.

"And now, Mr. Kane, I'm going to enjoy making you mine," Lorna says with an evil smile as she unzips her dress.

I lay back and watch the dress fall to the floor. She's wearing a lace black bra and a tiny thong.

Her breasts are big. Her stomach is flat. Her thighs are slender.

Fuck, she even has a thigh gap.

But she can't hold a fucking candle to her beautiful daughter.

Lorna slowly puts her hands to her back and unclasps her bra. She shakes her shoulders and the straps fall off and she lets the garment fall to the floor.

"Like what you see?" she asks me, hardly paying attention, but rather looking down at her melons as she caresses her body. Her hands go down to her waist and she hooks her fingers under the waistband of her thong and pushes it down.

She kicks her thong in my direction and it lands on my chest.

She's shaved. Completely.

Understand this. If I had never fucking met Becca, I'd probably man the fuck up and I'd tell my cock to get hard and fuck her.

"I guarantee you, I'll be a lot better lay than my daughter," she purrs.

What the fuck? My eyes flash toward her in shock.

"Oh, yes, I know," she gives me a lascivious smile. "Well at least I suspected there was something there, but I didn't know till just now."

Fucking Christ.

"I think it's sort of kinky," she says, stepping towards me and running her fingers over my pants. "First you had the daughter. Now you'll have the mother. And I know you'll choose me."

Lorna puts her knee in between my legs and gently brings it up. I feel her press against my cock and I can tell that it's twitching involuntarily.

But just hearing her words I realize what I'm doing. What I'm allowing to happen to me.

You know what, Gorgeous?

Fuck it.

I don't care if I lose fucking Kane Price.

I don't care if I never work on Wall Street again.

I'm not going to give up the one good thing in my life for a company. I'm not going to sacrifice my happiness to make more money.

Lorna brings her mouth toward me. "I know you're going to enjoy me," she purrs. "And if you even want I can do a press conference and tell the world I know for a fact you're not impotent and gay. Describe how good you fucked me. I bet Becca will cry for days."

Fuck off, bitch.

"Did you say something?" she asks me. She must have heard me mumbling.

Apparently I didn't speak loudly.

"I said to fuck off," I say, looking at her. "And then I called you a bitch."

Lorna looks at me for a moment.

I don't know where that hand of hers comes from but it's at an awkward angle and trying to slap me.

I grab it by the wrist and hold it up. She yelps as I lift my body up.

Lorna tries to latch on, but I throw her.

Not hard, mind you, Gorgeous.

I'm a hard fucking man and I've left my enemies in the dust, but I would never touch a fucking woman.

No, I throw her against the sofa where she crouches as she looks at me.

I take one last look at her.

"I think our deal is fucking off," I tell her simply.

I'm not mad.

I'm just removing her from my goddamn life.

"If our deal is off, then your company is mine," Lorna shrieks. I pause and turn to look at her. She has no fucking clue. "I won't stop until Becca ends up just like her father!"

Becca told me all about her Dad and Lorna.

You know how I told you I never hit women?

Well, Gorgeous...just this once I am so fucking tempted.

But it won't do anything.

I'm strong enough to leave.

My mind is a jumble as I hail a cab that takes me downtown.

“Where do you want me to take you exactly, man?” the cabbie asks me and I jump.

I’d been in my own little world. Not even realizing that we’re already in Midtown.

Fuck, I need to get my mind off of this shit.

“Just drop me near 6th Avenue far corner,” I tell the cabbie and he pulls up to the curb. I swipe and get out.

I need to get my mind off of Lorna.

I also need to get it off of Becca. I mean, my brain needs a complete reboot.

So what do I do?

I head into Lace.

It’s a strip club off 35th street, in the shadow of the Empire State Building.

Don’t shake your head, Gorgeous. New York City is filled with strip clubs, massage parlors, peep shows, and brothels.

They’re just sitting right in front of you in plain sight.

Times Square? You got peep shows where you pay a buck per minute to jerk off to the girl in the room fingering herself.

Near Grand Central? $200 an hour gets you a massage with a happy ending from a fucking Eastern European or Asian masseuse.

On the East Side? $300 and up and you can go into apartment buildings and pick the girl and take her for an hour to a room where you can fuck her brains out.

Sure, I’ve done some of it.

But I work on Wall Street. This is the fucking culture.

“Hey Mason, long time,” a stripper says as I enter the dimly lit main stage.

I look at her.

“Destiny?” I ask. She smiles at me.

Right. I forgot to tell you that there have been a host of Kane Price department parties at this place. Destiny and I have had our share of fun in the past.

She’s a good fuck. Just likes her pussy liked and her ass spanked and for me to cum all over her face.

“What you looking for today?” she asks, her hands traveling to her tits. “Fuck me in the Champagne room or you want me to blow you in the VIP?”

I look at her for a second.

That’s when it hits me.

Did I just leave Lorna to come here?

“Just give me a second, alright?” I tell her and go outside again.

Thankfully, the rain has stopped.

I look downtown.

In my old life, I would have been looking either inside to Destiny or uptown to Lorna.

In my old life, I would have no problem fucking Lorna. Hell, I might have even traded in my morals and enjoyed it.

But I’ve changed.

I realize that I’m no longer the same person.

It took me a long time to figure this out, but I realize that I’ve been a complete idiot.

My company is something I built. The whole ‘King of Wall Street’ is something I built for myself.

But it doesn’t mean a damn without the woman I love being by my side.

I need Becca. I love Becca.

But it’s already late. And I don’t want to text her booty call fashion on top of everything she’s been through.

I need to go home and calm down. Then I need to wake up in the morning and work out.

And then, around noon, after she’s had enough time, I need to go make things right with her.

And never look back.