Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I don’t need him to like it, or at least I shouldn’t. I think of my father, during one of our little excursions together, this one much more recently, only three years ago. Don’t care what other people say about you, Heloise. You have a gift. And you’re an Accardi. We don’t give a shit what anyone thinks. I thought he was being stupid at the time, because obviously we care, but I’ve held on to that piece of advice. It’s a strange thing, not caring—it’s armor against the world, a strange kind of confidence.
“I love it,” he says.
I let out a long breath. “Really?”
“I’m serious.” He steps closer, squinting. “I can’t tell the difference between yours and the book. God, even the back wall, all the little dark and light patches, it’s identical.”
“You have no idea how long that took me.”
“You did this in three days.” He shakes his head, looking truly mystified, and a satisfied smile crosses my lips. I try to hide it, but shit. I’m proud of this. That’s okay.
“Will it be enough for your partners?”
He turns to me, expression smoldering. Uh-oh, I know that look, it’s the same look he gave me before he massaged my back then fucked my pussy with his fingers.
“You are incredible.”
“Alright, easy now.” I unfold myself and hop off the work table, putting it between us. “Your partners. Will they be happy with this?”
“Yes,” he says. “Absolutely.”
“Are you sure? Because there’s a lot riding on whether this is good enough. Don’t think with your dick.”
He barks a laugh. “I’m not.”
“You are. Hey, don’t look at me like that. I know what you want from me, let’s just set aside the bullshit for one second, okay? You want to sleep with me.”
“Okay, Hellie, you’re right. I want to fuck you.”
Hearing it so plainly sends a sharp thrill of desire between my legs. My nipples are instantly hard. This was a mistake, but I power through.
“Put that aside. Forget about that. Is the painting good enough?”
He nods slowly. “Absolutely, yes.”
“Alright.” I let out a long, relieved sigh. “Great. I guess I’m not getting murdered. Yet.”
I watch, exhausted, as he circles the canvas, studying it up close. I wonder if he can see the flaws, all of them so glaringly obvious to me, but he doesn’t linger on any of them. Instead, he shakes his head. “Incredible,” he whispers.
“It’s done. I’m finished. Now I’m going to bed.” I turn away and go to leave.
But he calls me back. “There’s a problem.”
I groan. I should’ve seen this coming. “What now? You need another painting done in the next twenty minutes?”
“They want you there when we present this to them.”
My eyebrows raise. “Your partners do?”
“Gallo and Frost. They want proof that you’re alive and that you’re the one doing this work.”
“We can take a video right now. Take out your phone.”
“I understand this is stressful. Believe me, I pushed back hard, but Frost in particular was firm. If they’re going to invest this much time and reputational risk into you paying them back, they want proof. They want to speak with you.”
I slump back against the doorframe and release a frustrated whimper. “All I want to do is sleep for the next decade.”
“I know. I’m sorry. We’re leaving tomorrow morning, very early, and I guarantee you’ll be safe.”
It hadn’t occurred to me that I wouldn’t be, but it should’ve. Frost and Gallo want me dead. They want to send a message.
Erick’s the one that’s running this art scheme. He’s the one keeping me alive.
“Can I at least get some sleep first? I mean, it’s not until the morning.”
“Yes, Hellie, go ahead, get rest. Sleep as much as you can.” He moves toward me, his body tensed like a wild cat. “But don’t think you’re going to escape. Don’t get some horrible idea in your head about running away, because I promise, if you do something stupid, I won’t be able to protect you. Frost and Gallo are practically begging you to fuck this up. Do you hear me?”
I nod once. Sharp. Annoyed. “I get it.”
“Good.”
“Am I dismissed?”
He turns back to the painting, arms crossed, studying it. “You’re dismissed.”
Chapter 16
Erick
I keep Hellie close as the car rolls through the Strip toward our neutral location. Wolfie sits behind the wheel with Ren in the passenger seat. The painting is stowed in the trunk wrapped in layers of padding. Nobody speaks, and I can tell Hellie’s nervous. She fidgets with her hair, shifts in her seat, stares anywhere but at me.
“This must be strange for you,” I say softly, leaning down so only she can hear. “Being out here again.”
“You mean since you kidnapped me?”
“You’re probably thinking to yourself, this is your best chance of getting rescued. Make enough noise and someone might come to help, right?”
Her jaw works. “Leave me alone.”