Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
I pull my cell out of my pocket and dial Adam.
“Hey, man.”
“Charlotte is at the house,” I inform him.
“Everything okay?” he asks, sounding concerned.
“Long story short, she was being followed.”
“Need me to run some plates?”
“No. Didn’t get a look at them.”
He’s silent for a second. “Okay. Is there anything I can do?”
Not this time. “Just wanted to let you know I’m not at the house alone. Were you able to find anything out about her being arrested?”
“Nope. Nothing.” He pauses for a second. “You think she might have lied to you about it?”
“She couldn’t have,” I inform him.
“Got it,” he says in understanding. “I’ll keep digging and let you know what I find.”
We say our goodbyes, and I exit the office, going to look for her. I have her right where I want her. In my house, under my roof, she’ll sleep in my bed. Instead of watching her on my computer, I can just walk into my room and see her naked. It’s like handing candy to a baby. Even I can see the red flags, but I can’t not take advantage of them.
I find her on the second story by the railing, staring down into the living room and open kitchen.
I walk up next to her and watch her sigh when she notices me out of the corner of her eye.
“Did you buy this house, or was it your parents?” she inquires.
“You tell me,” I counter. I never asked her how she knew where I lived when I taped her to the chair in her kitchen, but I didn’t have to. I know how she knew. Only one other person knows I have this house, but she hasn’t been here in years.
Charlotte huffs, then pushes off the railing and turns her back to walk away.
“I bought it.” I decide to answer. I don’t need her to be happy with me. I’m still going to get what I want out of her, but it can’t hurt.
Stopping, she turns back to look at me but says nothing, so I continue. “A contractor built it for his wife.”
She frowns. “Then why did he sell it?”
“He caught her cheating with his business partner. He beat him to death.”
Stepping back over to the railing, she asks, “And his wife…what did he do to her?”
“He dragged her to the cathedral, tied her down, and offered her to the Lords.”
She snorts. “Of course he did. Did she survive?”
“No.”
Her hands wrap around the metal as she stares out the floor-to-ceiling windows for a long second. “When a Lord dies, his Lady is regifted.”
For some. My brothers and I are different. “Yes,” I decide to say even though it wasn’t a question.
“What happens to a Lord when his Lady dies?”
“He gets a new one.”
“So…” She swallows. “You’re saying that he killed his business partner and then allowed other Lords to torture his wife before they killed her? And the Lords still rewarded him with another wife?”
“Yes.”
She gives a rough laugh. “And let me guess, she was younger and prettier.”
I say nothing.
“Was she a virgin too?” Her laughter grows, but when her eyes meet mine, she squares her shoulders. “Unbelievable, but not surprised.” Her eyes slowly run up and down my body with disgust before she adds, “You guys get treated like fucking royalty because you have a dick. While those of us with tits should be rewarded for not stabbing you bastards while you sleep.” With that, she spins around, and pieces of her hair slaps me in the face before she storms down the stairs.
Moments later, I hear a door slam, and I’m guessing she’s in my bedroom. I could go in there, strip her naked, force her to crawl to me, and fuck her until she can’t speak. But I won’t. I’ll save that for later.
Instead, I return to my office downstairs and review the security cameras I have at her house. I go back over the past month. I see myself walking right in her front door while she’s sleeping in bed. I make my way down to her basement, where I spent several days getting it ready.
Then I fast-forward through some of it. I rewind here and there, trying to find any kind of hint about who the hell might have been following her today. But no bike other than mine even drives by her place. Plus, a code is required to access her driveway.
I should have put cameras on her SUV. I thought the tracker would be enough.
Three hours later, my head hurts, and I rub my heavy eyes. I turn off my computer and get up. Walking over to the minibar, I pour myself a glass of bourbon, needing something a little extra tonight besides a cigarette. Exiting my office, I stop when the smell of food hits my nose.
I walk down the hall to see the dining room table set for two. She’s standing in the kitchen. Her eyes meet mine before they drop to the floor. “I thought you might be hungry,” she says softly.