Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
He leans over me, his dick plunged inside me to the hilt. He kisses me hard. Rough. His tongue explores as his hands grip me tighter as he deepens the kiss. It’s all-consuming.
My orgasm crashes into me, blinding me for a split second as it all comes to a mighty explosion. My heart hammers inside my chest, desperate to break free, as my body pulses and thrums. I’ve never been more turned on in my life. I’m needy for this man, and I realize he could do anything he ever wanted to me, and I’d come back, begging for more.
It’s clear to me that I’ve gone and fallen for a priest, and I don’t know what to do about that.
Chapter 31
Benedict
Eva has her son this weekend, which has given me the perfect window of opportunity to follow Christopher. Something in my gut tells me the man’s up to no good, but now I need hard evidence to back it up. This is beyond intuition—it’s a game of cat and mouse, and I can’t afford to make a wrong move. I dress in plain clothes, opting for black pants and a simple black button-down that blend into the crowd. No need to stand out.
As a backup, I’ve tucked my priest collar into my pocket. If Christopher spots me, I can easily play it off, pretend I’m out running errands, doing the Lord’s work. The irony isn’t lost on me.
Vin knows I’m tailing Christopher today. He’s got eyes on the situation too, and he’s assured me the team is ready, standing by in case things go sideways. I don’t doubt him, but it doesn’t ease the tension crawling up my spine. Every step I take feels heavy, calculated, as I blend into the streets, following the man who’s caused so much destruction in Eva’s life. Today, I’m hoping to catch him in the act.
Christopher’s car pulls out of his driveway, and I follow at a safe distance, my heart racing but my focus steady.
It’s a Friday afternoon, and for the first few hours, Christopher does nothing but menial errands—dry cleaning, a stop at the bank, grabbing coffee like it’s just another routine day. He pulls into his office building eventually, and I keep driving, circling the block. Patience is key here. I can’t risk parking too close and drawing attention. If he’s as paranoid as I suspect, he’ll spot a tail immediately. I find a spot a few blocks away, close enough to see him when he leaves but far enough not to stand out.
Time drags on, each minute ticking by slower than the last. My muscles tense from sitting in the car for hours, the fading afternoon light turning into the dull, gray glow of early evening. It’s nearly eight when his sleek black Mercedes finally pulls out of the parking garage. I sit up, my heart rate spiking. I follow, keeping a good distance, my headlights dim. He’s not alone. A brunette sits beside him in the passenger seat, and it’s definitely not his wife.
I’ve seen pictures of Jessica Matthews before, and this woman is a complete stranger. Christopher swerves into traffic, weaving through cars with the ease of someone who’s done this before. I follow carefully, my grip tightening on the wheel as I stay just far enough behind.
We pass through the city until we reach the seedier outskirts, the streets lined with dimly lit bars and neon signs flickering in the night. My stomach twists when Christopher pulls into the parking lot of Club Throwdown. The place is notorious. It’s owned by the Russians. It’s known for illegal dealings, arms smuggling, and worse. A cold sweat trickles down my spine as I realize Christopher’s deeper into this underworld than I imagined.
What the hell is he doing here? The brunette follows him inside, her arm casually looped through his, and I wonder what kind of mess he’s entangled in.
I’ve never been to this place, and I’m wondering what would happen if I walked in. I also wonder what Lazarus Delgado would think if he knew Christopher was coming here. Maybe he’s here to watch an illegal boxing fight, but I highly doubt it.
If I had to guess, I’d say Christopher is selling out Lazarus Delgado, or vice versa.
I guess there’s only one way to find out. Before I head into the club, I pull out my phone, sending off a quick text to Eva.
Can’t stop thinking about you.
She answers back immediately.
Eva: I can’t wait to see you again.
I want to beg her to let me come over tonight, but I know better with her son staying there. It’s too risky. How do you explain to a young child that his mommy is dating a priest? You just can’t.
This is all so fucked up. I tuck my phone into the pocket of my black jeans and step out of the car, the cool night air hitting me as I stretch my stiff limbs. My muscles are tight from hours of waiting, but adrenaline kicks in, keeping me sharp. I adjust my shirt, blending into the shadows as I make my way toward Club Throwdown. The building pulses with energy, neon lights flickering above the door. The deep thrum of bass reverberates through the walls, the chaotic noise of voices, laughter, and the pounding music all blending into one.