Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
But just like my reason for bringing her here…
I suspect they’re all fucking lies.
There is a knock on my door, and I close my laptop just as Enya gestures for Brooke to enter.
The moment Brooke sees me, she scowls, and I have to contain my smile. She hates me, and it sends a spark straight to my groin.
I gesture for her to sit down. “Sit.”
But she folds her arms and lifts her chin. “I’m fine right here.”
I smile and rise from my chair, move around my desk, and lean against the edge.
“I’ve made a decision,” I say.
“Good for you.”
“It’s about you.”
“This should be interesting.”
“For the foreseeable future, you are to accompany me to a series of events as my plus one.”
Her arms fall to her side. “You expect me to be your… fake date?”
I’m loving the mix of surprise and anger playing out on her lovely face way more than I should be.
“I have several engagements I must attend in the coming week. Several that require me to bring a date. You will accompany me and be convincing as my plus one.”
“Surely you’re joking,” she finally says.
“I assure you, this is no joke.”
“You’re an—”
“Asshole, I know, but this is happening, Brooke, whether you like it or not.”
Her jaw stiffens with hatred as she considers the situation.
“Can I at least have my phone back?”
“And have you make phone calls you’ll only regret, I don’t think so.”
“I won’t call the police if that’s what you’re worried about, but my friends might if they don’t hear from me.”
“Your friends have received the necessary messages needed to keep any suspicions at bay.”
Her eyes widen and grow wild with anger. Which, I won’t lie, is a turn-on. It reminds me of the inhibited passion she keeps chained within her.
A white-hot passion I know how to bring out in her.
Remembering her crying out with uninhibited ecstasy as she came on my cock makes me hard.
“You broke into my phone and messaged them?”
“Of course,” I reply unapologetically, which only pours fuel on her anger.
“That’s such a dick move,” she exclaims.
I simply smile and notice how her hands fist at her sides.
“I don’t think you understand the gravity of the situation, Miss Masters. You’re here because your fiancé tried to blackmail me, and while you are here, I can do whatever the hell I want with you.”
22
BROOKE
Back in my room, I almost wear a tread mark into the fancy rug on the floor with my pacing back and forth.
I hate him.
I hate him so much I could spontaneously combust.
My anxiety is building with every second that passes.
I must’ve been crazy to go along with this.
I have to get out of here. If I don’t, I’m going to die.
The panic attack barrels toward me as I continue to pace the floor.
I have to find the police and tell them everything.
I reach for the door handle, not expecting it to turn, but to my surprise, it does, and the door opens.
It’s probably a trap. But I don’t give a damn. I have to get out of here.
Fueled by fear and anxiety, I step into the hallway and creep along the red carpet until I reach the grand staircase. My heart pounds, and my blood roars in my ears as I take every step down to the spacious marble foyer. Surely it can’t be this easy, that little voice warns.
The massive wrought iron doors are open, and I can see the blue sky.
I make a break for it, scooting across the foyer and through the doors. I burst into the sunshine and run down the front steps. There is a car heading along the driveway, so I run down a path toward an immaculately clipped garden and seek cover amongst the rows of lavender plants. I watch as men with serious faces exit the car. Lev appears out of nowhere and greets them. They’re part of the bratva. I shrink back further behind the lavender plants and watch them disappear inside.
This is my chance.
I look around for my escape route. Through the carefully thought-out landscape of wild lavender and perennials, I see the garage behind the mansion, where there are several cars. If I can get to one and get it started, I can find the nearest police station and tell them everything.
Taking a deep breath, I start to run. The Rolls-Royce Phantom we arrived here in is parked out the front of the garage, and as luck would have it, the keys are in it.
My heart racing, I glance around—there is no sign of Lev’s men anywhere, and I can taste my freedom.
Without another moment’s hesitation, I climb in the Phantom and hit the ignition. But when it roars to life, Igor the giant comes running out of the garage.
Our eyes meet through the windshield. But instead of looking furious, Igor looks almost sad as I shove my foot down on the accelerator and tear down the driveway.