Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 73580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73580 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I don’t even bother opening it before glaring. “Are you fucking kidding me? You tattled to my brother because I’m not doing things your way? Very mature.”
I stalk out of the room, and my brother calls this time. Apparently, I didn’t answer his text fast enough at three in the morning. I hit the accept button, hold the phone to my ear, and bark out a “What?”
“What the hell are you thinking? You can’t go into this thing with a stranger on your arm and no backup. Not to mention we need to talk about your little race off into the night first. What the fuck is wrong with you? I’m trying to keep you safe.”
“By locking me up? How is that going to help me get my council seat back? Newsflash, it won’t. If I don’t have this, I have nothing. Goodnight brother, don’t call me again unless you have something useful to offer.”
I hit the end button and turn to Michail standing in the doorway. With his hip cocked against the frame and his arms crossed over his chest, I can tell he’s unamused. Good. So am I.
I glare all the way up the stairs until he is out of sight. Why do all these men think they can control my every move? I’m done fucking allowing it.
27
MICHAIL
I pack my bag in the dark. It’s a cowardly move, but what does she expect? She won’t let me keep her safe, and with her fiancé’s men roaming outside, she doesn’t really need me anyway. At least it’s the lie, I tell myself.
One of the guards, a man with arms twice as big as Kai’s, steps aside to allow me out of the townhouse. His eyes stay locked on my back, and I have little doubt that all of Emmanuelle’s guards know exactly what services I’ve been providing Selena, if their glares and curled lips are any sign.
I throw my bag in the back of my car, climb behind the wheel, and sit. Simply sit. I don’t start the vehicle; I don’t check my phone. I stay in stillness.
Sometimes, it keeps me from going off the deep end, but right now, I want to fling myself over the edge. Consequences be damned. What if I walk back into the house, pack a bag for her, and we leave? Run away where none of this bullshit can find us?
It’s a pretty fantasy, but not one she’ll indulge. Not after fighting so hard to keep her little piece of power. The sad part is she thinks her seat as the lead councilwoman defines who she is. But I’ve witnessed her strength, her weakness, her kindness, and the tiny kernel of hope she fears showing anyone else. It’s barely budding, but she keeps it alive all the same.
My phone vibrates in my pocket, and I tease it out and glance at the screen. I don’t recognize the number, and it’s late for social calls. If I had even a little bit of a social life to begin with. Curious, more than anything, I hit the accept button and press the phone to my ear.
“Hello?”
“Mich? Is that you?” Her voice ices my blood. I don’t need to ask who it is.
I let out a long-controlled breath, slipping into one of my many guises, letting it infiltrate me, chase away that ice and replace it with something she’ll recognize, connect with. “Margery, you called. I didn’t think you had my number.”
“I’m very good at finding things when I have interest,” she says, soft and throaty like she’s imparting a secret.
For a second, my act falters, splinters, and blinding rage forces its way through me like a very sharp knife to a very vulnerable gut. I shake it away, closing my eyes to sell the story to even myself. “I don’t doubt that for a second. You’re a powerful woman. You can have whatever you want.”
I can hear the smile in her tone as she answers. “Oh, you charmer. Well, to be honest, I’m calling to see if you’d like to be my escort to an event tomorrow night. I know it’s last minute, but I’m happy to send you the proper attire. It is for charity as well.”
I pop open my eyes, something flinty sharpening inside me. This is exactly the opening I need. It allows me to go to the event and not have to worry about what kind of story I’ll need to make up to find my way inside. Selena won’t be as alone as she expects.
It takes little effort to force brightness into my response. “I’d be delighted to attend with you, Margery.” I draw out her name, making her feel it. “Should I meet you at the event space, or would you prefer me to pick you up?”
“Oh, don’t trouble yourself. Meet me there. I’ll send an invite around to Selena’s home, shall I? I think she mentioned you were staying with her.”