Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Is everything all set up?” I take a seat on the park bench beside him.
“Yeah.” He pulls out his phone. “Let me show you how it works.”
With a few taps of his finger, he pulls up the app he created just for the occasion. It’s password protected and requires an invitation to join. An invitation Patrick assured me will only go out to a select number of clients from the escort database he hacked into. Technically, what we are doing is illegal in Connecticut, and although I’m sweating bullets, Patrick assures me his system is foolproof.
“The money will be untraceable by the time it gets to the school. I linked it to a fundraising campaign for your education along with a few small details about you and your goals. Payment will be made directly through that site to Loyola, and the buyer will remain anonymous. As far as the federal government is concerned, you received a bunch of random donations, and that’s that.”
“How can you be sure?” I ask. “If the LA Underground app got removed, isn’t this a risk too?”
Patrick gives me a funny look. “The LA Underground app got taken down because Mr. Carter threatened to expel me if I didn’t remove it. I thought you knew.”
I suck in a breath and shake my head. “I didn’t know that.”
“I removed the photos Ethan posted as soon as I realized what was happening, but it was already too late. Mr. Carter was on the warpath.”
Again, this is something I didn’t know. It gives me hope that he will find a way to help me before I go through with this, but at this point, it’s anyone’s guess.
“I’m sorry Mr. Carter tore into you,” I offer. “I didn’t realize. But I appreciate you helping me out regardless.”
“No biggie.” He shrugs. “This isn’t even the craziest thing I’ve been asked to do. When kids with huge amounts of money at their disposal figure out all the shit that’s available on the dark web, the sky’s the limit.”
I’m just glad he isn’t judging me. Patrick seems like a cool kid, albeit a little nerdy. But I’d expect nothing less from someone who’s off-the-charts genius.
“So Saturday night at the charity gala,” I breathe. “Unless I pull the plug before then?”
“Absolutely,” he agrees. “I won’t go live with it until I get the go-ahead from you.”
“I just need the link for the private invitation along with the passcode,” I tell him. “There’s one more I want to deliver personally.”
“STELLA?” Sebastian blinks at me when he opens the door to find me standing there. “What are you doing here?”
I frown at his disheveled state. He doesn’t look like he’s slept in days, and he smells like a whiskey distillery. His shirt is rumpled, only half tucked into his trousers, and for a second, I wonder if he’s got someone in there with him. The thought makes me feel sick, but one glance inside the house confirms that isn’t the case. There’s only one glass on the table next to the empty bottle of whiskey, and no signs of anyone else.
“Are you, uh… sick?” I ask.
“No.” His gaze lingers on my lips, and I feel it deep between my thighs. “Why are you at my house?”
“I came to give you this.” I offer him my essay. “I was supposed to turn it into you this week, but you’ve been absent.”
He stares blankly at the red envelope in my hand. “So, you came here instead?”
His voice is gravelly, and I can’t read his face. Something is obviously going on with him, and suddenly, I’m doubting everything. I don’t want to admit how vulnerable I feel in front of him. This plan could completely backfire. For all I know, he will be happy to see me go. But I still have to try. He’s the only hope I have left.
“Mr. Carter, can I talk to you?” I whisper. “In private? It’s really important. I wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t.”
He drags a hand through his hair and sighs. “You need to go, Stella.”
The detachment in his voice turns my stomach, and I feel pressure building behind my eyes. How can I make him see?
“In that case, will you just promise to read my essay tonight?”
He snatches the envelope from my hand and shakes his head. “It’s Friday night.”
“Please.” My voice cracks. “I need you to read it.”
His eyes soften for a fraction of a second, and in that second, I can see a well of pain inside him. I forget all about my own problems as I reach out to touch him, but my hand falls short as he pulls away from my grasp.
“Good night, Stella.”
Before I can answer, he slams the door in my face.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
SEBASTIAN
I WAKE up with the hangover from hell, and a glance at my clock confirms it’s just after three in the afternoon. Saturday, I think. I’ve been on at least a three-day bender since my father’s visit this week, but I’m officially out of whisky and fucks to give.