Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
I stalk into the hallway, and heading to the table, I grab my purse. I don’t bother keeping up pretenses that I’m a happy socialite. Without saying goodbye to anyone, I rush to the stairs and go down to the lower level.
I feel Max right behind me, and when a group of drunk people almost knock into me while they’re staggering to the bar, Max’s arm wraps around me and yanks me back until I’m flush with his chest.
Which is rock hard.
For a second, I’m actually impressed by the wall of muscle behind me before my anger surfaces again.
With Max still glued to my back, breathing down my neck like a vicious pit bull, I’m directed where to walk like I’m some puppet.
The moment we’re out of the busy nightclub, I pull away from Max and stalk toward my Bugatti, my body trembling from how upset I am.
Again he grabs hold of my arm, and I’m stopped from trying to climb into my car. Before I can lose my shit from all the manhandling, Max growls, “I need to check the car.”
“For fucking what?” I seethe. “It was locked. I doubt the boogeyman got in while you were screwing things up for me with Henri.”
His eyes land on mine, and it looks like he’s a second away from killing me himself. “There might be a bomb.”
I seriously doubt it, but stand next to the Bugatti while Max checks the vehicle with some kind of mirror on a stick.
Once he’s satisfied that there’s no threat, he comes to open the passenger door. Glaring at him, I climb inside the vehicle and strap on my safety belt.
The instant Max slides in behind the steering wheel, I snap, “Go to my father’s house.”
Like always, Max doesn’t respond. He starts the engine, and with his eyes on the road, he drives to Papa’s home.
What the hell? I can’t even have some alone time with a man. I’ve seen other people with bodyguards, and their protectors never embarrassed them like this.
Seriously, Max is the furthest thing from a bodyguard. Where the hell did Papa find the man?
Chapter 8
Cami
The moment Max brings the Bugatti to a stop in front of the mansion, I shove the door open and get out. I’m too upset to greet my father’s guards as I stalk into the house.
Knowing Papa will be in his office this time of the night, I head in that direction. When I walk into the room, Papa’s head snaps up from where he is reading a document.
“Camille? What’s wrong?” he asks, concern lacing his words.
I gesture at Max, who’s coming to a stop next to me. “He embarrassed me tonight and is downright impossible. I understand it’s for my safety, but there has to be boundaries in place. I’ve been walking on eggshells the past week.”
Papa gives me a patient look. “What happened tonight?”
“I went to the restroom, and he burst inside like the freaking Terminator.”
My father’s eyes flick to Max. “Care to explain?”
“Camille went into the restroom with Henri Durand. I’ve told her I have to search a room before she enters it.”
I let out a frustrated sigh. “Papa, he yanks me around like I’m some puppet. He never asks permission and just does as he pleases. It’s infuriating.”
Instead of taking my side, Papa says, “It’s for your safety, mon amour.”
My chest bubbles with exasperation. “Does he even have bodyguarding experience?”
Papa lets out a sigh. “No, but he’s the best protection for you.”
Shock ripples over me. “He’s never been a bodyguard?”
My father shakes his head. “No, he’s doing me a favor by protecting you, so try to cut him some slack.”
Jesus.
“I need him to cut me some slack,” I argue. “I can’t live like this. I understand I need protection, but I also need to be able to go on with my life while you deal with the threat.”
“This matter is going to require patience from everyone,” Papa says as if he’s giving one of his political speeches.
“I’ve tried,” I almost cry because it doesn’t look like the matter will be resolved.
My father locks eyes with Max. “Is there anything you can do to make this easier for Camille?”
Max crosses his arms over his chest and shakes his head. “This is the only way I can guarantee to keep her alive. I have to have full control over every situation.”
God help me.
I turn my frustrated gaze on him. “By being a freaking robot? By not allowing me any privacy?”
Max’s intense eyes flick to mine, and once again, I get a glimpse of the danger hiding in the shadows.
“What did you do before you agreed to protect me?”
Papa rises from his chair, and not giving Max a chance to answer, he says, “I’m sure we can find a way to make this thing work between the two of you.” My father looks at me, then asks, “What would make this easier for you?”