Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 110089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 110089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 550(@200wpm)___ 440(@250wpm)___ 367(@300wpm)
She lowers her chin like a queen about to scold her subjects and marches toward Kaz. “You have to start using a nicer, softer voice. Do you understand me?”
Kaz actually leans back in his chair, rolling a few inches away as if afraid of the little sprite in my shirt and dirty jeans. His fingers tap against the armrest. “Yeah,” he finally mutters. The glow of his screens paints his face pale green, and the blush spreading across his cheeks is almost comical.
“I didn’t know computers—” He glances at me, searching for help. I keep my expression flat, refusing to throw him a lifeline. Kaz can sink or swim on his own. He swallows, shoulders drawing tight. “I’ll do better.”
Holy shit. He is doing better. No bruises sting down my back, and no cuts slice across my skin. His tone is controlled. A man teaching himself restraint because Ella demands it. That’s new. That’s power.
Ella whirls on me like a storm about to break. “You could be nice to him. Both of you should set a better tone.”
Now she’s lecturing me. Head high, eyes sparking, as if she owns the damn room. The worst part? She kind of does. The servers hum around us, cold and constant, and somehow her voice feels stronger than the machines.
Kaz’s mouth ticks in the briefest flicker of a smile before he wipes it away. He’s enjoying this.
I shake my head, reaching for Ella’s hand. “Aren’t you afraid of me?”
“I’m still afraid of you,” she mutters, her voice steady even as her fingers tremble against mine. “Just … not as much.”
So much for spanking her into submission. She’s losing her fear, and that makes her dangerous. Because once fear is gone, there’s only trust—or defiance. Neither bodes well for me.
My grip tightens as I pull her toward the elevator, the doors sliding open on a rush of cold air. The scent of metal and lemon polish escapes, sharp and sterile. Ella glances up at me, chin stubborn, eyes unyielding.
Well, that attitude won’t do at all.
NINETEEN
Ella
Justice’s burner phone feels small and cheap in my hand, the kind that’s meant to be disposable, to disappear without a trace. I turn it once between my fingers, weighing my options. He drives with that same maddening calm, eyes forward, hands loose on the wheel like he owns the road. Leo snores in the back, a soft, steady rumble that makes the silence heavier.
“What if I promise not to leave town?” My voice is quiet, meant more for myself than him.
“No. Put the call on speaker.”
The words snap like a lock clicking into place. He doesn’t even look at me when he says it. My butt is tender, and I want to smack him. The guy spanks hard. I bite back the retort rising to my lips and instead punch in a number, pressing the speaker button.
Rosalie answers on the third ring, voice tight. “Hello?”
“Hey. It’s me.”
“Where in the world are you?” Relief bursts through her tone, tangled up with annoyance. “I’ve been looking everywhere. You need to stop hiding in those stupid safe houses. It’s not safe, Ella. Just come to my place.”
My forehead presses against the glass, the window cold against my skin. The road blurs past, sunlight striking in flashes. “I’m working, and I’m fine. Quit fussing over me like somebody’s grandma.”
“Did you just call me old?”
I grin despite myself. “How’s the house construction coming?”
“Perfect. I’ve set up a whole suite for you. An office too. You’d have space.”
“I appreciate it.” The words come easy, but my gut knots. “I don’t really want to live under Bratva lock and key.”
“You’d have freedom, Ella,” Rosalie says.
Yeah, just like the freedom at that boarding school my stepmother had shipped me off to for my childhood. There was no escape, and every time I got in trouble, usually by taking apart computers to figure out how they worked, I ended up on cleaning duty. If I never have to clean another filthy kitchen, I’ll die happy. “Thanks,” I say. “If I need a place, you’ll be the first I call.”
The hum of the SUV fills the pause. Justice doesn’t look my way, but I feel the weight of his awareness. He hears everything. He trusts me not to give Rosalie the truth, or he thinks it doesn’t matter if I do.
Rosalie clears her throat. “There was an attack on Malice Media last night, and it wasn’t from Alexei and Hologrid Hub. I can’t imagine that Alana’s dad would attack his new son-in-law’s building, so it’s probably not the group from Aquarius Social. That leaves TimeGem.”
“It’s possible,” I allow. “But I don’t think Sylveria is dumb enough to come at Justice directly.” But who knows.
Rosalie breathes out.
I stiffen. “What?”
She sighs now. “I don’t know, but what if Sylveria is trying to start a war in which you get caught? She wants you dead. If it’s known that the Rendales and the Beathachs are at war, at least to those in the underground, then your death wouldn’t be blamed on her. She could have you killed and then scream bloody murder about Justice or Thorn taking you out.”