Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
The youngest son, Than, was on here more than the older one, Ransom, and the dad, Hale. In fact, Hale wasn’t on here at all. It was a shame. He had that silver-fox thing going for him. I slowly scanned reading the captions and thought a female must be in charge of this account when his face appeared and my thumb stopped the scrolling.
“Holy shit,” I whispered, staring down at Oz.
He was with Ransom, and they were shirtless, pouring something into big barrels. I leaned in closer to examine every bare inch of Oz I could see. I had been right about his abs…sculpted, rippled, and there was some ink too. I needed a fan, but I didn’t have one, so I took a big gulp of my wine instead. I briefly flicked my attention to Ransom and he was pretty impressive while shirtless, too, but I had a feeling that whoever had made this post knew that, leading me to believe once again that a woman was handling their social media.
I moved my eyes down to the caption, which read: Ransom with Oz Savelle, doing a little hands-on labor in the still today.
There were hashtags that I ignored as my gaze snapped back up to look at Oz. I had his last name—Savelle. I’d heard that before, but I couldn’t place where I had heard it. I tried to think of a kid at school who might have it, but none came to mind.
Going back to my web browser, I typed in the name Oz Savelle, and the first thing that came up was a Wikipedia for Oz Savelle. Widening my eyes, I clicked it, thinking this could not be the man that who abducted me, but what were the odds someone else had this name? The picture was a black-and-white photo of an older man standing with a horse that had medals around it and roses on it. That was not Oz. I read on to see who this was because they must be related. His name wasn’t common. This was most likely Oz’s namesake, who was famous, it seemed, with horses.
Oz Savelle, born in 1947 in Madison, Mississippi. Founder of Savelle Stables, LLC, Est. 1965, Madison, Mississippi, a thoroughbred horse-racing business, which bred and owned the 1998 Triple Crown Winner Dante Sky. His son, Jonas Savelle, is now CEO of Savelle Stables. Wife, Ellender Savelle. Children: Oz Savelle, 27, born April 10, 1998; Forge Savelle, 25, born December 16, 1999; and Kash Savelle,24, born January 1, 2001.
Holy crap. His family owned a stable that was famous. They had bred fifteen Kentucky Derby winners. There was a list of other races that their horses had won, but I knew nothing about horse racing, other than the Kentucky Derby was a big deal with hats and famous people liked to take pictures there.
Going back to the other sites that his name had brought up, I looked for the current Oz Savelle, and there were no Insta accounts for him, although the stables did have one that was very active. I clicked on it and scanned through the posts. Mostly horses in an elaborate stable, at races, with trophies and flowers. Finally, one with the face I was looking for.
Oz wore a dark blue suit that looked tailored to hug his body and an ice-blue shirt that made the color of his eyes stand out. In his hand was a large gold trophy and a panty-melting smile on his face. A tiny man with a helmet-looking thing on was beside him and another man, who I knew without reading the article had to be Oz’s father. Holy moly, the man had good genes to hand down. And hand down he had. The black suit he wore made him appear powerful and wealthy on top of the droolworthy-daddy thing. I shook my head in amazement, then took another drink.
Oz’s horse had won the Kentucky Derby three years ago.
I sank back into the cushions. I had been abducted and held prisoner by a millionaire who raised thoroughbred horses. What the hell?! How does that even happen?
Yes, my brother had washed the counterfeit money through them, but why didn’t the elite folks with all the power not send those that work for them to do the dirty work?
Realizing my glass was empty, I reached for the bottle and paused at seeing it was now below the half mark. I should stop. But I wasn’t going to. I had just learned that the man I had some strange obsession with was not only sexy and dangerous, but he was also wealthy and powerful with a famous family that had a Wikipedia page, for crying out loud.
Filling my glass, I went back to my phone and decided to try searching images. It was a mistake I wished I hadn’t thought of doing. Because there were plenty photos of the Oz Savelle I had been looking for, and he was rarely alone. Models, senator’s daughter, tycoon’s daughter, two different heiresses, and an effing princess from some European country I didn’t know about.