Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93482 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 467(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Her skin had a dewy glow, and I couldn’t help kissing her lips softly.
“Are you ready for your penance, angel?”
CHAPTER 15
THOMAS
Inow knew why nobody stayed in the fucking Hamptons once the summer was over. New York City was cold, but this shit was ridiculous.
It didn’t help that it was the middle of the night, and I was sneaking around the Astrid's vacation home.
As God was my witness, I tried to let it go. Part of me even took some gratification in knowing that I was taking my little angel away from the man who had tried and failed to claim her. There were just too many loose ends, though, too many variables.
For my plans to work, I needed her unwed and at my beck and call. That meant I had to get rid of the boyfriend. In a way he couldn’t come back from.
I checked with a few of the maids that were employed at my brother’s place. They were all too happy to call the maids that worked for the Astrids, getting some details. All it required was a little donation on my part. Not even a lot, only four hundred dollars. Which made me wonder, how poorly were these maids paid?
Within three hours, I had the address of their Hamptons estate, as well as some very key information. The gardener’s parents, normally in charge of the estate’s grounds, had saved up for years and were finally taking a holiday. They weren’t even going anywhere impressive for Christmas. Just a trip down south to visit family.
Pathetic.
Their son, however, had come out to the Hamptons to monitor the estate while they were away. He never went into the estate’s main house because there were too many cameras. Instead, the maid suspected he would spend the entire time in the garage apartment, playing video games and getting high.
My little angel had absolutely terrible taste in men.
Sneaking around the gate was easy enough. Disabling the security for the main house only required me to flip two switches. Even if it gave an alarm to the Astrids’ house in New York City, it would take them hours to get here, and given Mary Quinn's snobbery, it was unlikely connected to the local police department.
Besides, I knew for a fact that Mary Quinn and her husband were at some gala pretending not to be terrible fucking people. They were no doubt talking about supporting the opera, or a playhouse, or some art collection, or some other asinine thing that they wouldn’t remember by the morning.
Once the cameras were disabled, I walked straight up to the garage, tested the door that was unlocked, and just walked right the fuck in.
That was where I found him. Raul. The other man in my little angel’s life, who had unwittingly ruined far too many plans already.
The asshole was so focused on his video game, his headphones blaring, that he didn’t even notice me there. It wasn’t until he reached across his body to get another hit from his bong that he realized he wasn’t alone.
“Who the fuck are you?” he asked, looking me up and down. “Halloween is over, fucker.”
It always amazed me how many people thought that the black-on-black ensemble with the priest collar around my neck was a Halloween costume. Then again, I didn’t look like an average priest.
“It’s not a costume. I am Father Manwarring—yes, those Manwarrings,” I added when there was a glimmer of recognition at my name.
“Okay…”
“Mrs. Astrid should have called to inform you I was coming? I need to collect a few things for an auction. She sent me up here to fetch them. I was told you have a key?”
“Uh, yeah. No problem, Father,” he said, standing and brushing the Cheetos dust and God only knew what else from his hands and his pants as he tried to make himself presentable, knocking over his bong and spilling its rancid water all over the carpet in the process.
I looked at it then back at him, raising an eyebrow.
“If I promise to go to confession, can we not tell Mrs. Astrid about the—”
I raised my hand to stop him.
“As long as I can get what I need, your sins are your own. I have no interest in telling Mrs. Astrid anything she doesn’t need to know.”
“Thanks.” He smiled and led me downstairs.
As much as this collar felt like a noose, sometimes it was very helpful and persuaded people to do exactly what I wanted.
Once we got to the ground floor, I picked up a shovel that was propped against the garage wall, swung it straight at Raul’s head. With a satisfying thwack, he made a grunting noise and fell to the ground.
Then, it became time for the actual work.
I grabbed his unconscious body, first checking to make sure he was still alive. His pulse was strong and steady, so I linked my arms under his armpits and moved him over to a workbench deeper in the garage.