Total pages in book: 137
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 138169 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 691(@200wpm)___ 553(@250wpm)___ 461(@300wpm)
You let him scare you.
My chest aches by the time I stop outside Xavier’s partly cracked door.
The halls are a little dimmer, making the golden light falling through that slit brighter. I rest my hand on the door and turn back to Joseph with a smile and a wink.
“Start the timer,” I tease.
He doesn’t answer.
He just stares like this is the last time he’s ever going to see me.
A cold lump settles in my stomach.
I hold my breath and knock on Xavier’s door.
“Mr. Arrendell?” I call. “It’s Talia Grey.”
“Of course. Come.” Past the door, his voice is icy and eerily calm.
Stealing one last glance at Joseph for reassurance, I find nothing there except blank withdrawal, save the silent warning in his eyes.
It’s like he’s still telling me not to go in there.
I hold his eyes for another second, then push the office door open and step inside.
Xavier looks more casual than I’ve ever seen him.
His suit coat is draped over his chair, the sleeves of his pale blue dress shirt rolled up to his elbows, the collar unbuttoned.
His blond hair seems disarrayed. He leans back in his high-backed leather swivel chair with one leg crossed, his elbow propped on the arm and his gaze fixed on his laptop screen.
A paperweight on the front corner of the desk pins down a slip of paper that looks very much like the infamous check I desperately need.
How bad would it look if I just grabbed it and ran out the door?
But he looks up, his dead green eyes piercing me as he gestures to the empty chair across his desk. “Come, sit. I have something I’d like to show you.”
Oh, no.
He really wants to talk about the project now?
So much for in and out in five minutes.
But Grandpa’s treatment is riding on keeping Xavier Arrendell happy, so I force a fake smile and pull up one of the desk chairs.
“Sure. What do you want me to see?”
He says nothing, just gives me a measured look.
Then he slowly turns the laptop around so I can see it.
I’m expecting something normal.
A Pinterest mood board with new designs, a home tour video, an Instagram home show that screams we need a whole new direction, suited to his rich, finicky attitude. Instead, I see—
Me.
Caught on video.
First, slipping Micah’s number into Joseph’s pocket, my lips moving soundlessly.
Then I’m rifling through Xavier’s desk, taking photos of his phone bill before I’m pawing through the drawers like a hungry bear chasing honey. I know what’s next.
Taking the camera from his desk drawer.
My vision goes white for a second.
I can feel him glaring, but I can’t take my eyes off the screen.
Every passing second steals more air from my lungs. I can’t seem to make the simple act of breathing work anymore.
I am a flipping idiot.
Of course there was a hidden camera.
Of course someone as paranoid as Xavier would have cameras everywhere.
And now, he knows.
I’m gasping, making a strained, wheezing sound.
“Problem, Miss Grey?” he bites off.
I jerk my head up, my heart hammering, my lips working as I meet his eyes.
Except nothing comes out.
I don’t have air for words. Not with my entire body imploding while I’m trapped in those inhuman jade eyes.
Sometimes, I thought Micah’s eyes were hollow when he’d shut me away.
But they’re nothing like this.
Nothing like the arctic green void of Xavier’s as he tries to decide how to kill me.
“Mr. Arrendell, um…”
A tired, angry sigh boils out of him.
“I suppose I have you to blame for the fact that my domestic bank accounts have all been frozen by the federal government. You really should have minded your own goddamned business, little girl. Now that idiot cop you’ve been fucking is going to make himself a problem, too—or perhaps not, once he realizes you’re such a desperate little jezebel that you’d flirt with my valet for information.”
Flirt?
Oh. Without the sound on the camera, he must have thought I was—
Yeah, it doesn’t matter.
There’s a second of surreal relief knowing that Joseph Peters won’t be implicated by my stupidity.
But then Xavier’s gaze flicks past me with a weariness, like he’s done this a hundred times.
“Take her,” he growls.
I don’t understand the flick of his hand.
Not until a shadow falls over me from behind.
It’s hard to move, but I whirl around, half expecting to see Joseph Peters, complicit and doing his master’s bidding.
Oh, if only I was that lucky.
Eustace Jacobin stands over me, this hideous witch in black.
She leers like a nightmare, reaching bony hands out, aiming for my throat.
She doesn’t get a chance to strangle me.
Panic detonates in my brain until I’m spinning.
The lights go out as I fall down a black vortex of fear, screaming silently into total oblivion.
22
OH DARK HUNDRED (MICAH)
The very last thing I need to be thinking about right now is Talia Grey.
Yet as I strap myself into protective Kevlar, she’s it.