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)
I scrubbed it all away until my skin was stinging and raw. Only then did I step out of the shower, feeling like I was nothing but limitless potential.
Mother was gone. Father Manwarring only had the control while I was in his presence. Clearly, the answer was to get out of his presence and find out who I was with no one else’s influence.
Before I got dressed, I grabbed my phone and quickly Googled the Royal Academy of Art.
It was four a.m. my time, which meant it was nine a.m. in London.
I dialed the admissions number and held my breath, ignoring the burn of my lungs, and waited for someone to answer.
“Hello, Royal Academy of Art. How may I direct your call,” a bright British voice sounded on the other end of the line.
“Hello, yes, this is Rose Astrid. I just received a letter that was dated a few months ago. Apparently, I was accepted into the program, but I did not know. Is there someone I can talk to in order to see if this offer is still valid for the next term?”
CHAPTER 37
THOMAS
It had been so long since I had walked into this house with an invitation, I almost expected it to feel overwhelming, or to have some type of emotional reaction. It just felt weird, like walking the halls of a school you graduated from.
Still, I received the invitation for a family get-together. It was to be the entire extended family as well. Including the Astrids.
If Amelia was there, then more than likely Rose would be there, too. She left so quickly after I had untied her, I didn’t have time to talk to her again. I had wanted to pick her up and carry her to my bed, lay her there and tend to her, make sure that she was okay and I didn’t push her too far.
Then I had planned to spend the next several hours convincing her to admit her love for me. If the pain of burning wax didn’t work, then I was going to go for overstimulation. Hours between her legs licking and sucking and making her come over and over until she was so delirious the only thing that she knew was how much she loved me.
But then I heard that fucking tacky woman with her garish lipstick, Mrs. Donahue, wandering around the hallways under the church looking for me. I told Rose to hide, and I would get rid of Mrs. Donahue. Instead, the little minx took it as an opportunity to sneak out.
Fine.
I would give her some time to come to terms with the truth and then I would pull it from her lips.
When I walked into the living room, I didn’t really recognize anyone there other than my sisters, Charlotte and Olivia.
Charlotte immediately stood and ran into my arms, and I wrapped her in a tight hug, spinning her around a few times as she giggled the same way she did when we were children.
“Oh, I didn’t think you were going to come. I missed you so much. You need to meet my husband. Don’t worry, he’s not nearly as scary as he looks.”
A large man in a suit and a bolo tie behind her grunted something about being scarier than he looked.
Still, I offered my hand to shake and welcomed Reid into the family. He, Marksen, and my sisters were apparently in some heated debate about a TV show in Montana? And cow herding? There were not enough words in the English language to properly describe how uninterested I was in that conversation. Olivia, picking up on my disinterest, whispered in my ear that Luc and Father were in the billiards room, discussing billions instead of bovines.
I gave her a grateful nod and made my way down the once-familiar hall to the dark-wood-covered billiards room I couldn’t remember anyone actually using.
“Good evening, gentlemen,” I said as I stepped into the room.
Both Father and Luc wore stern expressions as they faced off against each other on the opposite side of the pool table. Each of them had a cue in their hand. That neither of them had lined up a shot told me that their current battle had less to do with the actual pool table and more to do with whatever business contract they were arguing over.
As much as some things changed, some stayed the same.
When they looked over at me, both of them also wore matching looks of surprise.
“I was invited, I believe,” I said, moving to Father’s crystal decanter of whisky.
“You were. I just didn’t think you would show.”
“I like to keep you on your toes,” I said, pouring myself a double.
Father laid down the pool cue and moved to stand next to me, pouring himself and Luc a glass as well.
“So, I hear you gave the Irish the blackmail that Mary Quinn had been hoarding?” Father said. I assumed it was his attempt at casual conversation.