Total pages in book: 160
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164263 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 821(@200wpm)___ 657(@250wpm)___ 548(@300wpm)
“Teaching you a lesson.” I put my hand around his throat and slam him up against his car. “You go near Alora again and I will fucking kill you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY
ALORA
“And then what happened?” Thomas frowns.
“Wait a minute, he turned up at dinner too?” Helene asks.
“Yes, and then Edward calls me and asks me to check my bag because he thought it was sus.”
“I did too, remember?” Thomas agrees, he taps his temple. “I’m telling you, that Pascal is a fucking weirdo.”
We’re having dinner in a café as we dissect my weird and wacky weekend in Paris.
It’s crowded and the television is playing the nightly news up on the wall in a corner.
“But then, he doesn’t talk to me.” I shrug.
“Who?”
“Edward.”
“Prescott randomly calls you but doesn’t talk about anything?” Thomas frowns.
“So he only called to ask about the bug?” Helene is chewing her thumbnail as she listens.
“Yeah.” I shrug.
“He’s so weird.” Thomas frowns. “Like really fucking weird.”
“I know,” I scoff. “So everybody in my life at the moment is fucking weird.”
“Except me.” Thomas widens his eyes.
“You’re the weirdest, have you checked out your job lately.”
He chuckles and pinches his fingers as if to say little bit.
“Oh my god.” Helene’s eyes widen.
“What?”
“Look.” She points up at the television and we all turn to see a picture of the hospital, the subtitles read.
In breaking news..
Monaco Councilor Pascal Deschanel has been found unconscious in the parking lot of the council chambers.
He had been savagely beaten and has multiple broken ribs.
The cameras of the parking lot had been disabled and this appears to be a targeted attack.
“Oh my god,” Helene whispers as her eyes come to me. “You don’t think….”
“No….” I put my hand over my mouth. “He wouldn’t.”
“Of course he did,” Thomas snaps. “Nobody fucks with Prescott and gets away with it. Everybody knows that.”
“No, surely not.” I glance between the two of them. “You don’t think.”
“But honestly.” Helene smiles, all gooey-eyed. “How is he so fucking hot?”
“Beating my ex-boyfriend is not hot.”
“He was tracking you,” Thomas gasps. “Do not blame Prescott for this, I would have done the same.” He sips his drink with a shrug. “Probably not as well, though, but it would have at least been a split lip.”
Helene and I giggle.
“God,” I murmur, wide-eyed. “It’s all so dramatic.”
“I know, right?” Helene whispers. “What I wouldn’t give to trade places with you right now.”
“But.” I hold my glass of wine up to them. “Has he called me to talk about anything…. That’s a big fat no.”
“Because he was too busy beating people to a pulp for you,” Thomas replies. “Give the man a chance.”
“He wouldn’t have done it himself, he would have had one of his goons do it.”
“I don’t know about that.” Thomas twists his lips as if thinking. “He definitely has the psycho gene.”
“How do you know?” I scoff.
“I can see it in his eyes. You seem to forget that he was plotting my death on Saturday night and I was scared for my fucking life.”
“Wimp.”
“Agree.” Thomas holds his two hands up. “Wholeheartedly.”
“I like you, Thomas.” Helene smiles. “How much do you charge a night?”
“I don’t know, five to ten thousand. Sometimes fifty.”
“Fifty thousand dollars.” We both gasp.
“I’m worth every pretty penny, ladies.” He flicks his hair like Fabio. “But don’t get any ideas, I don’t work for friends. It would be weird to go to work and then rock up to lunch the next day as if nothing happened.”
We giggle as we imagine the scenario.
“Can we go out on Saturday night?” Helene asks. “I need to get messy.”
“Messy.” I wince. “What does that even mean? It’s giving me bad visuals of genitals or something.”
“Eww.”
“Well, I can go, but Alora might be in the Bahamas by then being wooed by her thug boyfriend.”
“Who hasn’t called me.” Although I secretly hope I am in the Bahamas. “Do you think I should go to the hospital and check on Pascal?”
“No,” they both snap. “He was tracking you, Alora, you should be going to the police.”
“We don’t know it was actually him or that it was even sinister.”
“Yes. We do. You don’t track someone and follow them to Paris.”
“But he is harmless. I know him. He’s got a good heart, he would never hurt me.”
“No. I’m with Prescott on this.” Thomas sighs. “You stay away from him.”
“Are we going?” I grab my bag and my jacket. “I’ve come straight from work and I’ve got crap to do at home.” We pay our bill and walk through the front doors out onto the footpath and there, standing beside the door, are Philippe and another man in a black suit.
“What are you doing here?” I frown.
“Mr. Prescott has assigned us to you.”
“For what?”
“Protection.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“That’s actually a good idea,” Thomas interrupts. “She does, thank you.”
“He’s in the hospital half dead,” I stammer. “I’m pretty sure I’m safe.”