Total pages in book: 211
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 201554 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1008(@200wpm)___ 806(@250wpm)___ 672(@300wpm)
“I’m so sorry,” she says. “I’m—” She blinks up at me. “I just need to get by.”
I step back as she swipes at her cheek, as if hiding tears, and then darts away. I hit a button on my phone that sends a message to my man outside the house. He’ll follow Danielle while I monitor what Gigi does next.
I lift a hand at Celia. “I’ll be fast.”
She nods. “I’ll be back again in a minute to check on you.” She quickly follows Danielle.
I exit to the backyard and Gigi has her back to me, and thanks to age-related, poor hearing she doesn’t know I’m here. She sits in a chair by the fire and punches in an auto-dial number. “I need to speak to you,” she says into the phone. “Where are you? Why aren’t you answering my calls?”
She disconnects and just sits there. And continues to sit there as if she knows whoever she called will call her back. I need to know who she called. I enter the kitchen, shut the door, and text Blake: Who did Gigi just call?
His answer is instant: Kingston Senior.
I frown. That is the last person I expected her to call. Kingston Senior is supposed to be in combat with Gigi, in a war for stock and control, and pissed as fuck Gigi brought Eric into the mix. There is more to this picture than meets the eye.
Chapter fifty-three
Eric
We’re about to touch down and incredibly, Harper has yet to move. “Harper, sweetheart, wake up.” I stroke her hair. “We’re landing.”
Her eyes go wide and she tries to sit up, but she gets caught in the seatbelt. “Any news?” She frees herself and reattaches her belt. “Is my mother okay?”
“No news,” I say, wishing like hell that wasn’t the truth. I hit the button to raise her seat. “The internet has been out for the past few hours.”
“Hours? It’s been hours?” She runs her hand through her hair. “I need to know she’s okay. I can’t believe I even slept.”
“Your mother is fine. We have eyes on her with Walker Security. And you slept, because you were exhausted, with good reason. It’s not been an easy twenty-four hours.”
“Did you sleep? Please tell me you did. I don’t even remember us laying down to rest.”
“I did,” I say, amazed at how she worries about me. No one worries about me. I don’t let them close enough to even think about me. The descent is faster now and I glance at my watch and then back at Harper. “It’s one in the morning. We’ll make it to Blake’s offices before sunrise, talk with him for a few hours, and then go try to get some more rest.” We hit the runway and I grab Harper’s hand, lacing our fingers together. “In my bed, Harper.”
“I wonder what your bedroom looks like. Do you secretly have a fetish for pink?”
“The only fetish I have is you,” I assure her, pleased that she’s, at least momentarily, forgotten the danger on the ground. “Okay, not the only one, but I don’t want to scare you off.”
She laughs. “Oh, do tell. I’m not scared at all.”
“We’ll see, won’t we?”
“Will we?”
My phone buzzes with a text, signaling we’re now at tower level, and I glance down to find a message from Adam that reads: Call me.
I dial his number and he answers in one ring with, “About damn time.”
A reply that sets me on edge, or rather, more on edge than I already am. “We’re on the runway. Talk to me.”
Harper grabs my arm. “Is that Adam? Is my mother safe?”
“Is Danielle safe?” I ask, relaying her worry.
“Yes,” Adam says. “Danielle’s safe.”
I glance at Harper and give a nod. She breathes out in relief and settles into her seat.
“But there’s an interesting twist,” Adam adds.
"I'm listening,” I say, choosing my words cautiously so as to not alarm Harper.
“Danielle fought with Gigi. Gigi then called your father and I got the impression it might be the two of them plotting against you and Harper. He never returned her call, but he did something far more interesting. He got on a plane to New York City. Your father is on his way to you and Harper.”
What the hell? I think, biting back the words for Harper’s benefit.
“What else?”
“He was so anxious, he chartered a plane. I’ll let you know when he’s on the ground. He’s a couple hours behind you.”
We exchange a few more coded words and disconnect.
“What’s happening?” Harper asks, leaning in close. “What just happened because I can tell you were choosing your words cautiously and that makes me nervous all over again.”
More like, what the hell is happening? I think as the numbers in my mind start to spin, looking for my father’s angle, and one word keeps coming to me over and over, wanting to be recognized: Murder. There is murder in the air and I need to keep Harper close and safe.