Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67144 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
“I’m so glad I give your path some structure.”
He smirks, grabbing his half-hard cock through his sweats. “You give more than my path a little structure, Doll.”
The humid air shifts, and I know where this leads. I start to undress to make the process easier when Troy’s phone rings.
The levity on his face falls. My stomach churns. It’s time.
“Ready for this?” he asks.
I force a swallow and nod because it’s all I can do. I’ve fought thinking about this and now it’s here—Ford’s meeting with my father.
Their conversation will either complicate things or improve them. While being in flux has been nerve-wracking, it’s better than hearing Ford say he still suspects my dad is involved or that he’s angry that we’ve questioned Alexis’s potential role in this mess.
She is his wife, after all.
Troy answers on speakerphone.
“Castelli,” he says, squeezing my shoulder.
“Hey. Is Dahlia there with you?”
“I’m here.”
“Good. I just left your father’s office.”
“How did it go?” I ask, hoping my voice sounds calmer than I feel.
“He’s a very interesting man. Not what I expected.”
That doesn’t answer my question, Ford. “That’s lovely. How did it go?”
He chuckles. “He was very welcoming, much more than I would’ve expected from a man going through the legal battles he’s currently embroiled in. We sat down over coffee, and I told him about the stalking and the emails. I stopped short of accusing Alexis. I just threw some crumbs down and watched to see how he dealt with them.”
“Dammit, Ford. You’re not getting points for storytelling here. Spit it out,” I say.
He laughs. “Okay. He—”
Ding!
Troy bristles, his shoulders stiffening. “Hold up, Landry.”
I glance out the window. There’s a car parked in the driveway. I can see enough of the wording on the side to recognize the local pizza parlor we ordered from a while ago.
“It’s just the pizza,” I say. “Want me to get it?”
Troy looks over my shoulder toward the road. He nods warily. “Yeah. I already paid and tipped them. Grab the pizza and lock up behind you. Hang on, Landry.” He swipes around on his phone. “There. The security system is off. I’ll reset it as soon as you close the door.”
“Thanks,” I say, kissing his sternum before heading downstairs.
My nerves are jumbled. What happened in Ford’s meeting? Saying he’s a very interesting man isn’t exactly helpful. Is my father angry with me that he had to meet with my boss? Or will he appreciate they’re not leaving any stone unturned?
Does he have any answers or not?
I swing open the door. “Hey—Oh my God.”
Troy
“I’ll wait until she’s back to go into the details,” Ford says. “But I have to admit one thing. Dahlia was right. He’s much different in person than they portray him online.”
“Does that surprise you?” I ask, pulling two towels out of the linen closet and putting them in Lincoln’s bougie towel warmer. “When is the media ever right about someone? Claiming people are decent human beings doesn’t sell subscriptions.”
“You’re so right. And they’ve made a pretty penny selling the story that Joseph Dallo is an asshole in bed with the cartel and planning on ruining humankind.”
I laugh, even though there’s nothing funny about it. “So what’s your gut reaction?”
“Oh, I have more than a gut reaction.”
My ears perk up. “What does that mean? Do you know who’s behind all of this?”
“Yes and no.”
Fury greets me like an old friend. “Who the fuck is it?”
A car horn blows outside, which is an odd occurrence in this ritzy neighborhood. It goes off again, this time followed by an engine revving and a crash.
“What is that? Hold on, Ford.”
I peer out the window, curious but also … unsettled.
Headlights sweep the shrubbery just before the pizza delivery car bolts down the driveway. The car jumps the curb, clipping the light pole at the bed where the driveway meets the road.
“What the fuck?”
“What’s going on?” Ford asks, concern dripping in his tone.
I turn to find Dahlia but then notice one thing that sends waves of panic crashing through me.
Someone is in the passenger’s seat with a bag over their head.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Troy
“Fuck!” My blood turns to ice as I race through the house. “Landry! Call Grey. Windsor Pizza delivery car just left Lincoln’s. Will be headed to the causeway. Get him on this now.”
He doesn’t ask questions.
“Dahlia!”
I know she’s not going to answer me.
I know she’s not here.
Dahlia
“You little fucking bitch.” Freddy’s voice is cold and detached, but decidedly evil. “Why can’t you ever fucking cooperate? Huh?”
I’m thrown back in the passenger’s seat as the car barrels down the road. The engine screams and the frame shakes. Freddy pushes it to its limit.
Tears stain my face, and snot drips into my mouth. I can’t see anything through what I think is a pillowcase tied around my head.
Each ragged breath I take causes the fabric to pull into my mouth. Stop, Dahlia. You wont be able to breathe. You need to stay alive. Keep your wits.