Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
“I love him.”
He stops.
And laughs again. This time it’s sharper. Crueler.
“Love?” he echoes. “You don’t know the first thing about love. But let me tell you something about reality. That boy is a liability. And if you think for one second that I’ll let you throw away your future—our future—for a fling, then you’re more foolish than I thought.”
I take a step forward, the marble cold beneath my bare feet. “You don’t get to decide who I love.”
He leans in close. I smell scotch. I smell smoke. I smell the ruin of everything I should have been but never wanted to be.
“You think this is about love?” His voice drops to a whisper sharp enough to cut. “No. This is about power. About reputation. And you . . . you are my daughter. Which means your heart isn’t yours to give away.”
I shake my head, whispering, “I won’t let you control me.”
He grabs my wrist hard, and I yelp out in pain.
“You won’t have to,” he says. “Because you’re leaving. Your bags are already packed. The car will be here in twenty minutes.”
My mouth falls open. “What? No. You can’t do that.”
“I can, and I have.”
I yank my wrist back like his touch burns. “You’re insane.”
He gives me the kind of smile men give seconds before they break something fragile.
“You think this is insane? If you don’t cooperate, I’ll make sure that boy and his mother are on a bus to nowhere by sunrise. Better yet”—he pauses, savoring it—“I’ll let the people who are looking for them know exactly where they are.”
Everything inside me freezes.
“What . . . what do you mean?” My voice cracks as my heart slams against my ribs.
He just shrugs. Casual as hell. It’s infuriating.
We aren’t discussing the damn weather.
“You really thought she just wound up here? She’s hiding from people who don’t like to be disrespected. Dangerous people.”
My breath leaves my lungs like it’s been punched out. “Who?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes,” I snap. “It matters. Lorenzo said things . . . stories. About how she always ran. Always looked over her shoulder. Are you saying you know who she’s running from?”
He checks his watch.
“You’ve got nineteen minutes left,” he says. “Use them however you like.”
He spins on his heel and walks off.
Just like that.
Like I’m disposable.
And to him, I am.
My legs almost give out. I grip the wall until the spinning slows.
Then I run.
I check the servant wing—empty. The kitchen is silent. It’s barely dawn.
Shit. What do I do? I need to tell Lorenzo.
I check the staff stairwell and even behind the laundry room. My heart pounds so violently that it shakes my ribs.
Then I see her.
Angela. Holding a tray. Her eyes widen when she sees me.
“Miss Victoria—”
“I need you to give him this.” My voice breaks, splintering in the middle. I snatch a notecard from the counter and scribble something on the back, my hands shaking hard enough to smear the ink.
They’re sending me away. I don’t want to leave you. I love you.
I press it into her hand. “Please. Tell him I’m sorry. Tell him I didn’t want to leave.”
Her eyes go glassy. She nods slowly. “I’ll make sure he gets it.”
I turn and run again.
Because if I stop, I’ll break into pieces too small to ever glue back together.
By the time I reach the front entrance, the car is already waiting—sleek and black. It’s still dark out. How is this happening?
My suitcase sits beside the door. This was planned. I’m a foregone conclusion.
We never stood a chance. I just need him to find me.
The driver opens the door.
I climb in, trembling.
The engine rumbles. The estate gates groan open.
And as the mansion shrinks behind me, my heart shatters with every inch of road we put between us.
Lorenzo will wake to a note. He’ll find me.
20
Lorenzo
The first moment I have a free second, I head to the boathouse to see if she’s there.
It still smells like her.
Roses and something else I can’t name.
The blanket we lay on is folded neatly in the corner. Like it never happened.
I hate it.
Because it did, and I never want to forget that it did. I need to see her. Now. I move faster, cutting through the trees toward the estate.
Branches slap against my arms, but I don’t care. I’d happily take a beating if it brings me to her.
Man, I sound like a pussy.
I’m definitely not the kid who came here only a month ago. If my friends saw me now, they’d ask what the fuck happened to me?
Only a month ago, I stabbed someone and was sent away. Now . . .
Yeah. Fuck. I changed a lot. All because of her.
She makes me want to be a better man.
The halls are quiet as I head to her room. I spot my mother in the staff corridor and jog toward her.