Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 76370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76370 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 382(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
I don’t know. When I try to picture what that life might look like, it’s as flimsy as mist.
Frustrated with myself, I sit up and look around the space that is mine for the next two weeks. The guest room is a replica of Malone’s, though on a smaller scale. The color scheme is all gray and black with those same pops of red I’ve seen in the rest of the penthouse. Even the bathroom follows it: classy gray tile interspersed with a delicate, red-rose tile. Black marble counters. A large, white claw-foot tub. Deep-red towels.
I shower and decide to explore the closet. I’m not sure if she wants me wandering the place naked, but I’d feel better if I had some kind of clothing on while I’m snooping.
I stop short in the doorway, shock rooting my feet to the floor. This is… She… The closet is half full. Does someone else stay here? As far as I—or people at the Underworld—know, Malone is single and doesn’t even have a normal fuck buddy. Certainly, no one close enough to keep clothing at her place.
But when I finally manage to walk the rest of the way into the closet, I find the clothing is a wide variety of lingerie in pink, black, and red. There are some dresses and even a suit, but it’s primarily sexy stuff designed to seduce.
It’s all in my size.
Coincidence. It must be. Except I don’t really believe that, do I? Last night, she said she had everything she needed for the next two weeks. I assumed she meant toys and the like, but Malone is the type to prepare for any eventuality. She planned this, must have planned this for some time, because I recognize several of the pieces as ones designed by Tink and, these days, the waiting period for her stuff right now is measured by months.
I run my fingers over the lines of the suit, feeling conflicted. The pieces are gorgeous and, yes, probably things I would have chosen for myself. The fact that Malone not only knows my size—or at least did the homework to find it out—but my style… I don’t like it.
I’m not exactly surprised she did this if I think about it logically, but there’s nothing logical about the fluttering in my chest. Panic. It must be panic. All I’ve wanted for as long as I can remember is revenge for what Malone did to my mother. She could have taken over the territory without that one-on-one fight. She practically already had at that point. My mother might have been ruthless and occasionally cruel, but she wasn’t a warrior. Malone had to know that, and she didn’t care. She simply wanted to remove an obstacle, and she never once considered who that obstacle might be to other people. Mother, daughter, loved one.
I want to make her pay.
Standing here in this closet full of evidence of how many moves she thinks ahead, I start to shake. Maybe Allecto really was right. I’m never going to be able to pull this off if I’m just reacting. That whole thing about playing checkers while your opponent is playing chess. I can’t take the woman in a fair fight. I’ve had years to examine her legal business in an attempt to find fault to exploit. There is none. On the criminal side of things, her people love and fear her in equal measure. There’s no turning that tide.
It makes me want to shatter something.
I reach for the first piece of lingerie, a black lace bodysuit, intent on shredding it to ribbons, but stop myself before my fingers make contact. This isn’t the best option. I’ve come too far to let my chaotic impulses get the best of me. There’s a way forward; I just have to find it. I’ve never been so close to actually making progress before. I just need to be patient for a little while longer.
In the end, I don’t change out of the nightshirt I slept in. A quick check in the mirror shows that I look a bit rumpled and pretty low-key sexy. That’ll work.
As satisfied as I’m going to be, I head out of the room. The penthouse is eerily silent, or maybe that’s just my nerves threatening to get the best of me. I make a round quickly, walking through room after room to ensure I’m alone. Empty. All of them, empty. Good. There will be time to look in more detail later; I need to take advantage of this opportunity while Malone’s gone. With that in mind, I make my way back to the hallway with my room, the playroom, and Malone’s room. I consider the trio of doors. I highly doubt that she’s left anything useful out where I can find it, but it can’t hurt to check.