Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82881 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 332(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I hang up, noticing the desperate plea in my voice. I brush a hand over my hair to make sure not one piece is out of place. Something is happening inside me, and it squeezes like a vise around my throat. I feel exposed, and without Alek, who will have my back?
I roll my shoulders back, internally laughing. No, I can do this on my own. Always have and always will. When I finally look up, I narrow my gaze on the familiar road.
“Vance, I clearly said I wanted you to take me to River’s address, not back home,” I reprimand him.
“Yes, miss. You see, the thing is…” he says as he turns into the driveway to the property beside mine. “Mr. Bently seems to have purchased and moved into the mansion beside yours.”
My jaw unhinges. “How could he—” I snap my mouth shut. Because River Bently can do whatever the fuck he wants, that’s why.
The steel gates open as we drive along the long hedges, and it irritates me how much River most likely expected this. I look at my phone and see he hasn’t yet replied to my text message, which pisses me off. Considering how many texts he’s sent me with nonsense about all the wild things he wants to do to me, and when I finally reply, not a peep from him.
Sharply trimmed hedges surround the three-story, light-brown mansion for privacy. In the ten years of living next door, I’d never been curious about my neighbors or their home. Now, I wish I knew the layout inside and out.
I see the edge of a pool through the hedges, and the Victorian estate presents itself with a beautiful facade. The front doors open, and he steps out. It’s evening now, and his front porch light is on, showing him dressed in black slacks and a white T-shirt, his tattoos on full display, snaking up his arms.
Motherfucker was expecting me.
“I’ll call you when I need you to pick me up, Vance,” I say as I unbuckle my seat belt.
“Miss, I’ll come with you,” he insists.
“No, don’t,” I say as I watch River come down the stairs and toward the car. My men go everywhere with me. It’s just how it’s been for a long time. And it’s always done me justice. But right now, I don’t plan on going anywhere that puts me in danger. Actually, scratch that, I hope he fucks me up.
River opens the car door, leans down, and peers at me.
“Anya.” He says my name correctly, and his gaze falls to my wrist. “I see you got my gift.”
“Buy a girl diamonds, and you may very well get laid,” I say to him. He eyes me before he steps back, waiting for me to get out of the car. I place one heel on the ground, followed by the next, and rise from the back seat. He closes the door behind me as I look over his estate.
“The house next door? Really?” I snark.
“Some might consider it a happy coincidence. Think of all the sleepovers we can have,” he says, trying to spook me.
“Just so you know, the last boy who tried to climb into my window got both of his legs broken by a baseball bat,” I warn, rather fond of the memory.
“Then whoever had the bat didn’t do a good enough job, because I would’ve aimed for his skull,” River says with a tight smile. When I look at him, I realize he’s not joking anymore.
“Come. I know you’re dying to know what my bedroom looks like,” he says as he grabs my hand.
My gaze lands on his hand holding mine, but he seems unfazed by my icy glare. “I very well expect you to be a squatter living in your own home. A mattress at best.”
He chuckles. “It’ll take you a lot longer than that to send me into bankruptcy, Tanya, but keep trying.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, hating myself for actually finding this fucker funny at times.
I can't help but stare at his back as I follow him into the house. Even dressed, I can see the outline of his muscles. River is a powerful man, and he exudes power from every pore.
The house seems only half full of furniture as he leads me through the main living space and guides me to the staircase. I find myself peeking around every corner, and when I glance up, I realize he’s looking over his shoulder at me.
“I’m still waiting on the last of my furniture to arrive,” he states.
I bite my bottom lip, trying not to laugh. “Sure, you are. Or maybe you had to sell it off for this pretty thing,” I say, lifting my wrist to indicate the watch.
“Did it work?” he asks.
I shrug. “I’ve added it to my collection with all other items mortal men who fall for my trap have given me.”