Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88879 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 444(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 296(@300wpm)
“Arrange for Steven to chauffeur me.”
“Of course,” Greta replies, jotting it down. Her professionalism is impeccable, but I can feel the undercurrent. She’s watching closely for any changes, for decisions that deviate from my usual routine.
“And about the trip this weekend,” she continues, “your mother’s birthday in France. Shall I finalize the travel arrangements?”
“There might be an issue. The DA’s office is still poking around. I need to make sure they won’t interfere with my plans.”
She gives me a quick nod. “I’ll keep the flight details flexible until you confirm.”
“By the way, there will be two of us on the trip.”
I see the slight lift of her eyebrow. This time the disapproval is more obvious. She doesn’t think it is proper for me to take Lara to my mother’s birthday, but her voice is carefully neutral. “Right.”
“That’s it. Will you get the DA on the phone for me?”
She nods, turns smartly, and leaves with her back ramrod straight. Strange. She is bristling with suppressed jealousy. As if… Is she in love with me? I dismiss the thought immediately. Of course not. I’ve known her too long. There would have been signs. I lean back in my chair with a sigh. It’s infuriating the way DA is circling, looking for a way to pin something on me. They never have anything solid, but they keep pushing, hoping I’ve slipped up somewhere.
My phone bleeps and I pick it up. “David Madley on the line,” Greta says and clicks off.
I keep my voice friendly, casual. “David, good to speak with you. I wanted to check on the status of the investigation. I have a trip planned, and I want to make sure there are no restrictions.”
His voice is smooth, too smooth. “As of now, there’s nothing stopping you. If anything comes up, you’ll be the first to know.”
I grip the phone tighter. It’s all politics and leverage with him. A game that people with limited amounts of power play.
“Good to hear.”
He laughs, and it grates on my nerves. “No problem, but be careful. Anything can come up, anytime.”
He has nothing and he knows it, but it’s always the same: veiled, unspoken allegations and threats while he tries his damnedest to find something, anything that he can use against me.
I end the call in a sour mood. I know they’re waiting for me to make a mistake. I’ll try to move money from one jurisdiction to another or something else equally desperate. But I won’t. I’ve played by the rules. Done nothing illegal.
My record and conscience are clear.
Chapter Thirty-Four
LARA
Ilie on the bed staring at the ceiling. In shock.
I can still feel the imprint of his touch. I don’t understand what’s going on. We’ve only had sex twice and he’s already managed to get under my skin. Far, far more than I’d like to admit. It’s starting to feel like… God no!
I’m not falling in love with him. No way.
I don’t even want to be thinking about such a thing. That way lies madness.
I get up, feeling restless, and pace the room. Maybe I should go to the office. But I can’t face Dad, his guilt or misplaced anger. But I have to do something or I swear, I will go crazy. I feel like calling him. I feel like hearing his voice, but I know better to call him at work. I can still remember how cold and horrible he was the last time I called him.
But now that I have thought of calling him, I’m itching to pick up the phone and speak to him. I come to an abrupt halt and shut my eyes again. I am just being pathetic and clingy. No man wants a desperate woman. And yet I find myself walking towards my phone, my hand hovers over it. Don’t do it, Lara. But I pick it up and flick it open. My index finger hovers over his number. Don’t do it, Lara. You’ll regret it.
“Damn you, Ivan,” I mutter.
I bite my lip and just as I’m about to press the button, there’s a knock on the door. The breath I was holding comes out in a rush. Saved by the bell, it seems.
I open the door and find Muriel standing outside with a tray in her hand. “I thought you might want some scones hot from the oven and Chef’s raspberry jam,” she says, smiling warmly. “You barely touched breakfast earlier.”
Barely touched breakfast. I ate enough to feed two horses, but her kindness touches me. “Oh… thank you, but you shouldn’t have gone to all this trouble.”
She steps inside and sets the tray down on the coffee table. “It’s no trouble. I know how overwhelming it can be when you’re in a new place.” The fragrance of the freshly baked scones fills the room and the comforting scent is just what I need.