Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 135958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 135958 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 680(@200wpm)___ 544(@250wpm)___ 453(@300wpm)
“I’m fine.”
“Bullshit.”
I looked up, knowing my eyes were heated. “I said I’m fine.” I gritted my teeth.
He bit the inside of his cheek. “He still cares about you, you kno—”
“Stop!”
I had enough.
A storm was stirring in me, and I shot Tanner a glare. “What do you think I’m doing here, Tanner? Huh?” I motioned to the pile of papers. “I am trying to get my life back. I am trying to get out from under your brother’s hold. I am trying to be myself, just myself. Not Riley Bello. Not a 411 Operative. Not Kai Bennett’s lover. And definitely not a Bennett’s asset, because that’s what I am to your family right now. An asset. A thing, place, or person of value that you can use. I want out. So stop trying to tell me he gives a shit, because he doesn’t. I might’ve been stupid enough to fall for his trick, but I’m not anymore. He doesn’t give one shit about me, so do us both a favor and shut the fuck up while I’m finishing here.”
I scrawled my name with an extra flourish on the third sheet.
Two more to go.
Tanner was quiet. For a second. “I get that you want out. But he does care.”
One more.
I ignored him. I ignored how I wanted to throw up. Again.
“I know he wouldn’t want me to tell you that, but I don’t care. He loves you.”
I finished the last one just as he said that, and I locked my emotions down.
Shoving back my chair, my arms shook with my need to get out of here.
I was opening the door when he stopped me.
“You can sell all your homes. You can sell all your father’s holdings, but you’ll never be free of him.”
I paused, my heart filling my throat.
I heard Tanner stand up, the chair being moved back. “He loves you, Riley. That means he’s always going to know where you are, and he’s always going to make sure you’re safe. It’s what he does for the rest of us.”
My hand formed into a fist, pressing over my stomach.
I was tempted to tell him he was wrong, that Kai didn’t love me, that Kai didn’t love anyone. He only loved power. But then all the planning I’d done over the last few months would be in vain. Because no matter what, Tanner was still enslaved to his family name and to Kai.
So without responding, I left. One chapter of my life was officially closed.
• • •
Two weeks later, I was on the phone with Blade.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
“Yeah. We’re ready to go. Are you?”
I looked at everything before me.
I’d sold the main house two days ago. The papers were signed. The new owners were excited. Every member of my father’s house staff was unemployed, but they would get a surprise in the mail in a few days. The car was packed. Every item I wanted to take with me was in there, which wasn’t a lot. I should’ve wept. I should’ve had more than that to show for a lifetime of memories, but I didn’t. I looked at this as finally getting the clean break I should’ve had when I was fifteen.
I was ready. I was beyond ready.
My hand fell to my stomach, and picking up my last bag, I said into the phone, “I’m ready. I’ll see you there.”
“Will do. Official lockdown commencing: now.”
He hung up. The dial tone rang through, and I left the phone behind. It didn’t matter. I had bags of burners ready to go, and in thirty-two hours, I would meet up with Blade and Carol. It was a decision we’d all made. I had to trust they were genuinely okay doing all this. If not, it’d be all for nothing.
I drove to my attorney’s office. I had another matter to finish. One last errand before I disappeared forever.
• • •
“Are you sure you want to do this?” My lawyer laid his hand over the last sheet for me to sign.
I was having déjà vu, but not from the second-guessing, from the paperwork. I had to sign a piece of paper for every single person my father had employed in his homes. I wasn’t too worried about the company. Those employees would still have jobs. I knew Kai needed the trucking line to keep trucking. That was the whole point, and the other holdings were investments. They would remain active.
I nodded. “I’m sure.”
“This is a lot of money you’re giving away.”
It didn’t matter. Not to me. From my father’s holdings and homes, I had acquired two hundred and seventy-three million dollars. I was giving it all away, except five million. Five was for me, just in case.
Each of those household staff members would receive five million. And I had divided the rest. Every domestic abuse shelter in Canada and the United States would receive a hundred thousand. After that, whatever was left, five percent would go to homeless shelters. Another five percent would go to any nonprofit fighting sex trafficking. And I left a percentage for lobbyists fighting sex trafficking at the legislative level. There were other stipulations and a good fund for my lawyers to take from for their own bills, but I wanted to do good.