Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
A long, drawn-out exhale escapes my mouth. It feels like I haven’t been able to breathe since I got here, not that everything is perfect. Obviously, I’m still stuck here, but at least I can see a glimmer of hope. My initial instinct is to run as soon as I see the open hallway, but I know I won’t get far.
I don’t know the layout of this fortress. I need to take the next few days to explore and investigate the best way out of this place. To glean as much information about the danger that awaits me out there.
Escaping is one thing, but I also need a plan to keep whoever is after me off my tracks.
I’ll call Matt. He’ll know what to do.
Stepping back into the room, I quickly throw on clothes. I don’t even bother to hide from the cameras. What’s the use? At this point, he’s seen everything there is to see.
I’m not sure if there’s volume to the intercom. Can I speak to him? Will he hear me even if he’s not currently watching? I’m banking that between the speaker and the camera, Gideon is, at the very least, listening. If he’s going to take away my privacy, I’m going to mess with him.
“Enjoy the show?” I sing-song. “You can look, but you’ll never touch, asshole.” Swinging my hips, I make my way out of the room, but not before flipping the camera the bird over my head.
He better have caught that because I mean what I said. No matter what his plans are for me, if he tries to touch me, I’ll kill him.
Somehow, I’ll find a way. I’d rather die than ever be touched by that man. When I leave here, I’ll never see him again. Well, maybe once the bastard gets himself arrested for kidnapping—or worse—he’ll see me because I will testify to put him behind bars in a second.
For Roman.
I’ll be the girl sitting behind the glass with a phone in my hand, talking to him in the prison he’ll find himself locked up in.
That’s where I’ll get my answers. I can ask him about Roman’s part in this world of drugs and God knows what else. I need the closure.
I could do it now, but the idea of being close to him scares me. Not because I think he’ll hurt me but because I’m afraid of the way he looks at me.
He stares at me like he’s intrigued. Like he wants to unravel my secrets. And I’m scared of what that will mean.
It’s better I hold off on the questioning.
I’ll stay as far away as possible.
As I step out into the hall, I take my time roaming the space. The place is beautifully decorated. You can tell a woman helped with all the details. It’s masculine but with a feminine touch to not make it feel sterile or cold. Expensive but tasteful artwork covers the gray walls.
My eyes travel over every nook and cranny visible to the eye as I gather my own intel. By the time I make it to the grand staircase, I realize my escape won’t be easy. Not unless I have free rein outside. There’s literally nowhere to hide. I can run, but his goons will find me.
He’ll find me.
I turn the corner once I get to the bottom of the stairs, in search of the dining room, when I walk straight into a hard wall. My hands thrust out to catch myself and land on a firm chest.
Okay. Not a wall.
My head tilts up, and my breath catches. The hard body beneath my hand belongs to Gideon. Our eyes lock, and I slowly let out the breath I’m holding.
“You need to be more careful where you walk, firefly.” His voice is buttery smooth. Decadent. My body shivers at the same time my face heats.
Is it hot in here?
His full mouth tips into a smirk, and any lust that was building is doused by the nickname and the cocky attitude attached to it.
I might hate him.
But I really hate the way I react to him more.
“Hungry?”
“No,” I snap.
Jeez, Sasha. Acting like a petulant child is not part of the plan. It’s only been a few minutes, and you’re already deviating from the course. Typical.
If my behavior isn’t bad enough, my stomach chooses that moment to argue with me, and he doesn’t miss it. He chuckles, and I want to die.
“Come. I’ll show you to the dining room,” he says, placing his hand beneath my elbow to usher me toward sustenance, but I won’t go that willingly.
I need to set boundaries. To stay strong.
My feet stay rooted in place. “I’d rather eat alone.”
“That’s not going to happen, firefly.”
I yank my arm out of his grip. “I told you to stop calling me that.”
He completely ignores me. “What kind of host would I be if I let you eat alone two times within twenty-four hours?”