Total pages in book: 149
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 146548 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 733(@200wpm)___ 586(@250wpm)___ 488(@300wpm)
I hang onto the part where he says he’ll be safe.
Alright.
Alright.
I don’t push forward. As he cracks the door open, Farrow has the view. I only see the sky-blue painted wood, which blocks the person from my sight.
I watch my boyfriend’s expression change from territorial protectiveness to outright anger. He tries to swing the door closed on them.
That person sticks their foot in the crevice. A nice leather loafer jams the door open.
“Move your motherfucking foot,” Farrow sneers. “Or I will break it.”
“I have photos!”
What.
Blood drains out of my head. And I don’t recognize that urgent male voice. Farrow must though, and he’s one second from shoving his weight into the door and breaking that guy’s foot.
“Nude photos!” the guy shouts. “Of both of you!”
Bullshit.
There’s no way.
There’s no way, I think over and over again. I start layering my demeanor, my features, with brick and brick, mortaring down for the storm to come. “Farrow,” I say, voice strict. I have to see this guy. I can’t be in the dark anymore.
Farrow knows.
It’s why he doesn’t argue. He just yanks the door wider to allow me a better view. But he fills the doorway with his six-foot-three frame and muscular MMA build. Whoever is on the other side would have to barrel through Farrow to reach me.
Five people.
Five people stand outside our villa, cypress trees landscaping the private front yard and pebbled parking spot. The ratio blares in my brain: five to two.
We’re outnumbered.
Two heftier men in the back carry bulky cameras, and two taller guys have black duffel bags slung across their chests. Lighting equipment of some kind.
But the late-twenty-something guy out in front, wearing a baby blue suit and yellow pocket square, steals most of my attention. I zero in on his ashy-brown hair, a quarterback build and gunmetal eyes.
Familiarity creeps into me, but I can’t quite place him. The picture is lost in the cobwebs of my brain.
Who are you?
My boyfriend white-knuckles the doorframe, one second from slamming it shut. “You’re full of shit,” Farrow sneers. “Get your camera crew off our front steps. This is private property.”
The gunmetal-eyed guy ignores him. “Maximoff,” he says quickly. “We weren’t properly introduced. I’m Ace Steel—”
“What,” I snap heatedly. Fucking Christ.
This is the porn star. I wonder how much the company is paying him to be here. To try to convince me to work for them.
He starts again, “I—”
“No,” I cut in. “Whatever you want from me, no.” Anger gnaws at me, clawing to take hold and destroy before I’m destroyed. I breathe and turn to my boyfriend. “Farrow.” I want him to shut the door. His earlier instincts were spot on. Get this fucking guy out of here.
“I’ll leak the nudes!” Ace yells before Farrow can do anything.
He’s not serious.
I charge and Farrow actually blocks me from bombarding the door, his arm across my chest.
“You’re blackmailing me?” I growl. “To my face?!”
“It’s not blackmail.” Ace glances cautiously to the four men around him, then back to me, “I just want to talk. Give me five minutes. Do you understand what I had to go through to get a face-to-face with you?”
Yeah…he had to bid two million dollars on me at an auction, and he still couldn’t get that time with me. I don’t even want to know what he did to track us down here.
I don’t want to know.
I don’t want to feel even more violated than I do right now.
“You don’t have nudes,” I say like it’s a real fact. It has to be. Anything else feels wrong.
Farrow has reached back and wrapped an arm around my waist, all while facing forward and keeping his focus on Ace. He’s trying to protect me, but I want to raise our armies for him. I want to tear this guy to fucking pieces.
“I do have them.” Ace stares unblinkingly at me.
He’s bluffing. “Do you even understand the legal ramifications of you admitting that right now?” I ask, dumbfounded. “I’ll bury you.”
The Hales have dug graves for weaker transgressions than what he’s confessing. My dad, my grandfather, have ruined countless men.
I can ruin him.
But I’m not sure that’d erase this slithering feeling that tries to worm its way inside of me.
“I didn’t take the photos myself,” Ace clarifies. “A drone did.”
A drone. I didn’t see one in the air. Neither did Farrow, who’s vigilant about these things. We missed it, and we’re usually careful. We think of everything, but the one time where we both wanted to feel free…
It was a risk.
I think we both knew it was.
Ace unbuttons his suit jacket, hot and uncomfortable. “But I have the photos.”
“Then show us them,” Farrow says coldly.
Ace takes out his phone and pops up a picture.
I see Farrow kissing me on the sundeck, his ass completely exposed, but I’m covered, pressed against his body. Ace swipes up. The next photo is just of me. Walking towards the pool.