Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 55510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55510 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 278(@200wpm)___ 222(@250wpm)___ 185(@300wpm)
“Emery! Have you heard from your father?” Zoe asked as she stepped close to me, blocking my path.
I grimaced as I avoided her eyes, not wanting to feed her drive to get a comment out of me. The last thing I wanted to do right now was expose my family’s business to a journalist. If she was already here, it wouldn’t be long before other journalists or reporters flooded the street. I didn’t know how they already heard about the news.
“You’re trespassing, Zoe,” I said as I gave her a hard stare. “You can only be out on the street. The walkway and yard are private property.”
My father told me that in case there were unwanted visitors.
“Your father is in a lot of hot water for messing around with someone like Deviau,” Zoe told me.
I clenched my jaw and ignored her, brushing past her to walk across the street. I didn’t know what she was talking about, and I was nervous to find out. I didn’t know the full extent of my father’s crime, but I did know he was funneling someone else’s money through his business. What the hell was he thinking?
I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts list, hoping to come across someone who could help. My father ensured I had the phone numbers of those he trusted and were important to him. Thankfully, Carter Landon, the owner of one of the apartments my father purchased, was in the middle of my contacts list.
“Hi, Carter. It’s Emery,” I said into the phone as I put my back to the house, not wanting to watch the increasing flood of investigators and journalists. I needed to get out of here quickly.
“Emery, great to hear from you. It’s a bit late, yes?” Carter asked with a sleepy voice.
I checked the time to see that it was almost nine o’clock, way past office hours. Watching my father’s house get ransacked messed with my common sense a little.
“Sorry about that. I have… a bit of a situation going on and need a place to stay. Do you happen to have a unit available for me to crash in for a little while?” I asked him.
Carter hummed beneath his breath, and I knew that if my father wasn’t his boss that he would’ve told me no.
“Of course. Come by the office and I’ll give you the key,” he said.
“Thank you, Carter. I’ll tell my dad you did this for me,” I promised him. My father was probably going insane with worry right now knowing that he couldn’t be near me to watch over me.
“Thank you, ma’am! See you soon,” Carter replied, sounding more chipper than before.
I tucked my phone into the back pocket of my black, ruffle-edged romper, resting my free hand on the handle of my suitcase. My white Audi TTS was held hostage in the closed garage, so I had no wheels to get me out of here. My face flushed warm as I looked up and down the street helplessly. Should I call a taxi or something?
Or maybe I could call one of the few friends I had left, Parvati. While my rich father figure had been taken away to jail, she recently gained one of her own. Plus, she’d scored three incredible men in her life that also happened to be her stepbrothers. I couldn’t believe my ears when she told me about her wild love story with the three of them, but I was glad that she had her happily ever after with them, her baby, and her restaurant.
I shook my head, knowing I couldn’t bother her. She would want to know what happened, and I didn’t want more and more people getting involved in the mix.
I had to figure things out myself for once.
I called a local taxi company and awkwardly stumbled through a conversation with the dispatcher. At least I had someone on their way to pick me up. However, the world around me felt ten times bigger than normal as I gazed up and down the street, trying to ignore the police lights flashing in front of my father’s house. I was stranded all alone for the first time in my life.
Something told me that everything was about to change.
2
ANDREW
“Fifteen… sixteen…” I counted my reps beneath my breath as I steadily lifted my chin above the pull-up bar.
I smoothly lowered myself, my working biceps forcing the sleeves of my white t-shirt to strain. I lifted myself again, sweat beading up on the crown of my head.
Right when my chin passed the bar, I heard my phone ring on the nearby workout bench, prompting me to drop down onto the floor. I snatched my towel off the barbell situated on its rack, running it over my damp, dirty blonde hair. It had better be an important call.