Total pages in book: 156
Estimated words: 160192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 160192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 801(@200wpm)___ 641(@250wpm)___ 534(@300wpm)
“I was hungry,” she managed to get out as he took another step toward her and she moved, banging into the cupboard behind her.
Shit.
Fuck.
What was she going to do?
“Really? You must be starving.”
She was. Her stomach took that moment to growl.
“You’re not eating food in the dining room. No breakfast, lunch, or dinner.”
Shit. How long had he been back? She had no idea where he lived most of the time, this was only her second time talking to him.
He seemed different than last time, though. Colder.
Scarier.
Moving even closer, he placed his hands on the cupboard door behind her. Then he leaned in. “You trying to avoid my father?”
She knew better than to admit it.
“I don’t blame you if you are. You’re scared of him.”
It wasn’t a question. She still couldn’t answer.
Where was the Jared who had offered her a lock for her door? Sent her books to read?
This Jared made her heart race.
Even as she noticed how sexy he was in his white shirt that was unbuttoned halfway down his chest, displaying a smattering of chest hair and tanned skin.
He seemed so strong, so confident.
So gorgeous.
Jared ran a finger down her cheek before leaning in. “Do you want out yet, Angie?”
Yes.
Please.
But she forced herself to shake her head because she still had no idea if he was a spy for his father. And he was acting so different than before. When he’d smiled. When he’d seemed genuinely concerned.
He brushed a finger down her cheek. “I get it. Trust is hard. And I’m not exactly in a position to help you anymore, anyway.”
Then he leaned in, kissing her.
To her shock, sparks tingled across her lips and her stomach swooped in response. What the hell was that?
She almost leaned into him, but he abruptly pulled away. His face was cold again.
“I . . . you can’t do that. I’m your father’s wife,” she forced out, making herself stay still.
He smirked at her. “Oh, I’m well aware. Be more careful next time. You should always be aware of your surroundings.” Turning, he walked out.
That was weird.
And terrifying. She touched her finger to her lips.
Yeah. Weird.
Ding-dong the bastard was gone.
Fergus Bartolli was dead.
Fucking finally.
It was time they had some good news. Especially after what had happened in Colombia.
North pushed that thought to one side. What happened had changed Jared. It had made him harder. More ruthless.
Darker.
But Fergus was dead, Jared was back in Seattle to claim his rightful place as leader of the family. And it was time to clean house.
There was just one thing North wanted to do while Jared was busy. He snuck up the stairs. No one would have thought to have told her, he was sure.
Staff were rushing through the house, looking terrified, probably wondering what this meant for them.
If this meant they were free.
But they should know that when you signed on to work for the Bartolli family it was for life. He moved up the stairs and into her room. It was dark. There wasn’t even a light on under the closet door.
He strode to the closet and opened it, leaning down to cover her mouth as she tried to scream. He didn’t think she could see him.
“Be quiet.” He disguised his voice.
He didn’t know why he didn’t want her knowing it was him. Maybe because he knew Jared would beat his ass for this.
Perhaps he’d even go further than that.
Who knew?
But gut instinct told him to get her out. So he was going with it.
“Fergus Bartolli is dead. You need to leave. Now. Don’t even take any clothes. Here is a grand. Don’t ever come back.”
He drew the money that he’d put in his pocket and shoved it in her hand.
There was a strange spark inside him. Tiny and he barely felt it.
Was it pity?
Regret?
No.
This was just what had to be done.
Angie was barely awake.
She stared down at the money in her hand. The person was already gone, and she’d turned on the closet light.
Was he . . . was he telling the truth?
Was Fergus dead?
If so, it was her every wish come true. She’d never expect another Christmas present or wish on a falling star.
Not that she’d ever really had Christmas presents. Or wished on many falling stars. You didn’t see a lot of stars in the middle of the city.
But what if it was a lie? What if it was a way to trick her? Test her?
Her breathing hitched.
Could she go through it again? Would she survive his punishment?
A whimper escaped her.
Get it together, Angie.
Why would he trick you like this?
Because he was a sadistic fucking asshole, that’s why.
And yet . . . she still found herself getting dressed. Pulling on shoes and a jacket. Grabbing Wally, her whale, from his hiding spot.
This might be her only chance at freedom. Her other plan hadn’t worked, so this was it.