Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 133034 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 665(@200wpm)___ 532(@250wpm)___ 443(@300wpm)
“You’re going home to Belgravia tonight, sweets. I spoke to Josh earlier, once the founders ruled that it would be entirely safe for you to do so.”
“I’m going where?! What?” My tears well up again to an entirely different tune. “I’m going home?”
“Yeah, you are. Josh has packed up your things. He’s waiting for you back in Belgravia.”
Fuck the elbow I’m balancing on, I throw myself into her arms, pain be damned.
I sob like a baby as I thank her, and thank the founders, and thank whole damn Agency, and thank the good Lord above. The wounds healing on the outside will be little more than scratches compared to the wounds that will be healing on the inside, once I get back home. They won’t even come close.
“Let me help you into the car,” my saviour says and all I can do is sob and sniffle as she walks me outside and eases me into the back seat.
“You’re amazing, Ella,” she says, and I giggle-sob at her words. “Enjoy your time off. You’ve earned it.”
The car door closes, and the driver takes me away. Away to what feels a whole new brilliant life awaiting. I’m hurting so bad, every bone, every muscle, every inch of bruised and battered flesh, but my tears are tears of joy as I cry, all the way… home.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Iwish I wasn’t hooded in the back seat. I’d have been over the moon to see the Belgravia Towers in the distance, getting closer with every mile. My spirit is soaring when the car pulls to a stop. My lip trembles at the thought I’m finally home. I can hardly comprehend it.
“You can remove your hood now, Holly,” the driver says.
“Thank you. Thanks so much!”
I pull the ties of the hood loose and I’m out of it in seconds, my fingers fumbling straight for the seatbelt clip.
It’s Josh who opens the door for me, helping me out of the car, with a careful, baby. But I have no time for careful right now. No matter how much I’m hurting from the hours of punishment I’ve just taken, all I want is him.
I wrap my arms around my boyfriend’s neck, sobbing as the Bentley drives away. My tears blur my vision as I stare up at the mirrored glass of the East Tower. I have to wipe them away before the full beauty of the place truly hits me. I look up at the eighth floor. There are our windows! Oh my God, I can see them, all lit up!
Josh takes my hand, squeezing it tight as we stand together, grinning up at our home. The place we built a life together.
It’s my beacon of light in the darkness, just as it always has been. Yet another blessing that my career with The Agency granted me from the shell of poverty and worthlessness.
Once again, Connor lost the fight. I know that now. I feel it in my bones.
And his fall from grace is only going to get worse. The founders’ tone said it all.
“Fuck, Ells, I’ve never packed so fast in my life,” Josh says, with a laugh. “Apologies in advance for the state of your suitcase. I just lobbed everything in and booked a cab.”
I laugh back. “You could have left it there and I wouldn’t have given a stuff. Everything I need is right here.”
Josh sighs. It’s amazing to see the pure relief in his smile.
“It felt so good to open the front door. Fuck me, I’m so happy we’ve got some time to enjoy it.”
I close my eyes, tears pricking at the thought.
“I can’t wait to open the front door myself.”
“I can’t wait either, so let’s get you inside. Let’s get you home.”
He tries his best to calm me down and support me on the walk, but my adrenaline is back and my endorphins are flying higher than the tower itself as we walk through the courtyard gardens and into the lobby of the East Wing. I brush my fingers against the marble wall on our way to the elevator, still in disbelief. Even the button of the elevator feels like a long-lost friend. I press it ten times over, my face streaming with happy tears by the time it arrives and the doors ping open.
Floor eight.
Jesus Christ, how amazing it feels to lean back against the handrail on the ascent.
“You ok, baby?” Josh asks.
“Ok could never, ever cut it in a million years.” I meet his gorgeous green eyes. “I feel absolutely fucking amazing.”
He grins, showing off his perfect smile.
“So do I.”
We’re hand in hand as we approach our front door. Josh gives me the key, but my hand is so shaky that he has to help me turn it in the lock.
“Home, Ells,” he says, and pushes the door open, and there it is. Home. Right in front of me.