Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 98566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98566 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
It was a glasshouse that must have been built at the same time as the mansion. The bricks came only to knee height and then it was all ironwork and panes of glass. The green paint was flaking off the metal and the glass was so old and cloudy, it distorted the outside world like a funhouse mirror. Inside, I paced up and down past tables laden with ancient, crumbling flowerpots. Remember who he is! He’d kill you if he found out who you really are!
And then I saw him coming after me. The cloudy glass made him just a huge, dark shape, a monster approaching.
He opened the door and for a second he just stared at me. He was breathing fast with anger but it didn’t feel directed at me. He was mad at himself. Because he nearly let himself feel something?
“You must come out of there,” he told me. “It’s not safe.” He glanced up at the ceiling. “It’s very old. The glass could fall from the frames.”
I looked around. The metal had baked and frozen through so many New York summers and winters that it had deformed, and most of the putty that held the glass in place had crumbled away. Probably everything was pretty precarious. I looked up at him and there was a sudden swell of warmth in my chest. He’d followed me in here because he was worried about me.
I nodded and he held the door for me as I walked out. He followed me back to the mansion, but his heavy footsteps never came closer than ten feet. I could feel his eyes on my back the whole way and it wasn’t just lust, anymore, it was something deeper. A longing that was so dangerous, he had to hang back so it didn’t overwhelm him completely. Oh God, what am I going to do? I could feel myself rushing towards a precipice I wouldn’t come back from.
Back inside the mansion, I headed upstairs and heard Konstantin break off behind me and enter his study. Just as I reached our bedroom, the pocket of my cardigan started to buzz. I pulled out Christina’s phone, confused. I hadn’t set any alarms.
But she had. A reminder was on the screen. Meet Mom to give her birthday gift.
My eyes widened. Shit! I’d been so focused on Christina’s relationship with Konstantin, I hadn’t thought about her having family or friends. I’d fooled Konstantin and Grigory...but how the hell was I going to fool Christina’s mother?
29
Hailey
THE REMINDER came with a time: noon, which was in forty minutes, and a place: the food court of a fancy shopping mall in Manhattan. The problem was, I couldn’t leave without the gift, and I had no idea where Christina had left it. I filled Calahan in as I searched. First I went through the walk-in closet. Then the drawers. Then it occurred to me that the gift might be something small, and Christina might be carrying it around in her purse. But all I found in there was money, make-up and a parking permit for an apartment complex called Barlow Heights.
“The shopping mall’s a half hour drive away,” said Calahan in my ear. “You need to be leaving now.”
“Not helping!” I told him. I went through Christina’s drawers a second time. Checked under the bed. Went through the drawers again, this time emptying them out onto the floor. Nothing. Where is it?! I ran to check under the bed again and cracked my ankle against an open drawer.
“Have you tried the closet?” asked Calahan helpfully.
“Yes, I’ve tried the closet!” I snapped, clutching my ankle in pain. But I ran back in there again and—
On the floor in one corner, there were some piles of neatly-folded winter clothes. Which was weird because there was plenty of hanger space for them. I lifted a coat off the top of the pile….
There was a box wrapped in lurid red metallic paper and tied with a silver bow. The card taped to the top read Mom. Christina had wedged it into the corner and then piled clothes all around it and on top of it. Why hide a birthday gift? But it didn’t matter now. I grabbed it and ran.
When I asked one of the guards if he’d drive me into the city, he didn’t even bat an eyelid: apparently shopping trips were how Christina spent most of her time. Within minutes, I was in the back of the big black Mercedes, speeding towards Manhattan.
I arrived at the mall with five minutes to spare and found the food court. But then I had a new problem. “How am I going to recognize her?” I asked Calahan.
“I’m working on it,” he said. “Trying to find a photo.”
I paced back and forth, clutching the gift, my heart racing, desperately looking for someone who looked like an older version of Christina. How am I going to do this? What if she started talking about family gossip, or stuff from my childhood I had no idea about?