Total pages in book: 166
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169305 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 847(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
What a total asshat.
And yet, something fragile lurked beneath his surface that I couldn’t explain. The way he almost shriveled into himself when faced with human touch broke my heart.
I couldn’t hate him all the way, even when I knew I probably should.
Autumn leaves crunched under my boots. The gurgling water fountain washed over my ears as I lumbered past it.
I made it to the security gate, walking through it rather than climbing over it this time.
Across from me, the sprawling Costa mansion glowed with creamy lights, even from this distance.
I stopped and stared from afar, too exhausted to be concerned with how pathetic I looked.
A food truck rumbled past their private gate and sailed up the half-mile driveway, leaving the scent of ginger, lemongrass, and cinnamon in its wake.
Catering.
For a normal weekday dinner.
A current of drool fought its way past my teeth. I hadn’t eaten all day.
I spotted the blurred figure of a very pregnant woman. Dallas Costa, perhaps?
She burst through the entryway, racing to the truck in a glamorous knee-length canary-yellow dress.
Behind her, her husband tugged her back, sweeping her into his arms, so she didn’t have to walk.
They cooed into each other’s ears as an army of servers carried trays out of the trunk and into the house.
My heart wept with jealousy.
I wondered, for the millionth time, how different people could lead such different lives in the same zip code.
To my left, Oliver von Bismarck’s gates remained permanently open as a queue of luxury cars filed through.
Music blared into the street. He was probably throwing another salacious party. And by party, I meant orgy.
Rumors traveled fast in this town.
“Oliver is a self-proclaimed vaginivore,” I remembered Reggie telling Tabby. “He finds pleasure with anyone he deems pretty enough to become his next meal.”
I bet he didn’t have a care in the world.
I bet he never had to wonder how he’d pay a debt or preserve his father’s legacy.
Stop the pity party, Fae.
Struggles aren’t bad. You enjoy the view more if you climb there.
A brief honk pulled my attention away from the von Bismarck mansion. Thick mud splashed onto my sneakers as a Maybach rumbled to a stop beside me.
The rear window rolled down, revealing an older woman whose age I couldn’t quite pin down.
She wore a Lululemon jacket over an Ernest Leoty bodysuit that showed off her Pilates build. A tartan Burberry gym bag consumed the rest of the leather bench.
It shocked me that this stunning woman had given birth to a son whose feral smile resembled a health crisis.
“Farrow.” She untucked her AirPods from her ears. “Do you have a minute?”
Zach’s mother knew my name?
The Sun family sure did their homework.
Then again, I recognized her from my own research.
I nodded, but it didn’t matter.
Her chauffeur had already shifted the car into Park. He exited, swung open Mrs. Sun’s door, and offered a hand. She accepted it, stepping out with grace.
Judging by the flat line of her lips, I suspected that I’d enjoy conversing with her as little as I did her spawn.
Still, I gave her the benefit of the doubt, pasting a polite smile on my lips.
She arched a brow. “You’re Zachary’s new housekeeper, correct?”
I shrugged but didn’t say anything.
“I’m Constance. His mother.”
“I know.”
She didn’t offer me her hand, but I knew it had nothing to do with a phobia. Didn’t matter.
Dad always said—No one can devalue you without your consent.
Well, permission not granted.
Constance tightened her perfect ponytail. “You were at Zach’s party, weren’t you?”
Another nod.
And a… bark?
Three fluffy Corgis peeked their heads from the gaping window. They wore matching outfits, better dressed than I’d ever be.
Constance petted one of their heads through the window, her eyes still holding me hostage. “Zach seems to have taken a liking to you.”
Truly, there was no need for the disgusted tone. Her words made as much sense as the annual turkey pardoning.
Behind her, the Maybach blocked my Prius. Still, I fished a key from my backpack, jabbing the unlock button.
The car beeped twice.
I considered it my reply.
“Not a big talker, I see. Just as well, I suppose.” She dusted fur off her hands, nodding. “Let’s cut straight to the chase. My son is an excellent predator. As such, he decided to bring home his prey. But you’re wrong for him.”
“Am I, now?” I knotted a cheap scarf over my neck. The heater in the car was one of many luxuries I couldn’t afford.
“No offense.”
“None taken. It’s a compliment. Your son is very… peculiar.”
The dig bounced off her, probably cushioned by the truth laced into it. “I have nothing against you.”
“Great to hear.”
“It’s just… Zach is at an important juncture in his life. I fear you might interfere with his decisions. That he’s confused and blinded by your… your…” Her eyes scraped a path from my choppy hair down to my muddy shoes, searching for one positive thing to say about me. “…cunningness, perhaps.”