Kylie Bray (Love, Hate and Billions)

I think about this as I wear out my Prada heels. Blinded in anger because Vincent with any other woman makes me jealous. They have sex with him, they have his hands on their body.

And I? Me, Kylie 'Fucking' Bray, billionaire that can practically click her fingers and have men crawling on the ground can't have Vincent Stone even smile at me.

I hate it, I hate me, I hate him.

No I still love him. My mind is a jumbled mess, it is thinking thoughts, bad thoughts.

“I'm going to church,” I yell, sarcasm rich and deep in my notes, “My mama always says it's best to confess before you commit sin, then you can enjoy it better.”

“What sin do you plan on committing Kylie,” He shouts back, still following me, which is a first.

Vincent never follows me, ever. Why is he following me?

is now the new in with Vincent Stone and I.

I say in all honesty, and it is. I just know it is going to include Vincent's head probably detached from his body. Obviously I don't share

for surprise. I stop mid-step. Still so revved up, my breathing labored. Seconds pass before I realize it is my ear piece I keep for

look at the scowling Made Man that now stands in front of me, I slip my fingers in my bra pulling the earpiece out. I stick the

train on Vincent's

breeze of the wind blows in my direction and my nose greedily inhales all that which I

love Vincent and I hate him for not loving me

the desire for it. With Vincent it isn't just

so much control over you that you have no choice but to

on the other side of my earpiece brings me out of my stupor and though it is

further away from the grave-site out into the sun and closer

why. I've never questioned why. I just understand that he has to