Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 85414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85414 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
She practically jogs my way, then engulfs me in a hug. It’s the first time Layla has ever initiated a hug and I know not to take it lightly.
“I was so worried about you,” she speaks into my neck. “I was legit planning to stab Johnny in the throat so I could see you.”
I already did that.
My heart falls at the reminder of blood and the cut and everything. Circling my arms around her slender back, I hug her and we remain like that for a while as I fight the tears trying to break loose.
I sniffle, and Layla pulls away. “Hey…what’s wrong?”
“Everything?”
“It’s that piece of S, Johnny, isn’t it? I’m totally kicking him in the nose.”
“Stop it, Lay.”
“What do you mean by stop it? He locked you up!”
“No, I mean, yeah, but it was complicated. I need to ask you about something.”
“There’s nothing complicated about locking someone up. That shit is no bueno, mate. And then the arsehole forbids me from coming here? Yeah, not going to happen. Not in this life.”
“Lay, focus.”
“What?”
“When I first moved in with Jonathan, did I tell you about the packages with no sender I used to receive at my old flat’s address?”
“I think you said something about changing your mailing address because it was annoying to go back and forth.”
“That’s not what I’m talking about. Did I mention a flash drive and Alicia’s messages? I said I agreed to Jonathan’s deal because I wanted to know the truth behind her death.”
“You did, totally, and I said, don’t do it, but you went on with it anyway. No one listens to Layla.”
“You remember the messages.” My voice is so full of hope, it’s pathetic.
“I have no clue about any messages. You said you hold a grudge against Johnny because you think your sister died because of him.”
“I never mentioned the voice messages I received?”
“No.”
“Shit.”
“What voices messages?” she whispers, as if this is a conspiracy theory.
“N-nothing.” I don’t want Lay to also think I’m crazy.
Am I? I’m not, right?
She fixes me with that overdramatic scrutinising look she learnt from detective shows. “What are you hiding from me? Spill.”
“I will. J-just not now, okay?” I pause, then blurt to deviate her attention, “Did Jonathan call you?”
“Yup. Seven in the morning like a damn alarm — not that I slept. I spent the entire night plotting his demise. He thought he could lock you up and have his happily ever after? Nuh-uh, not happening.”
Not that she could’ve done anything to him, but the fact that she didn’t give up on me warms my heart.
“I even brought backup.”
“What type of backup?”
She grins with pure mischievousness. “Johnny doesn’t get to chase me away, then call me over as if I’m his lap dog.”
“What did you do, Lay?”
“Relax. I only shuffled his cards with the one person he hates.”
Recognition settles in. “You didn’t.”
“Totes did.” Her grin widens. “I brought my Daddy.”
I jump to my feet. “Lay! What if they go against each other?”
“You think they would? Oh em gee, I should’ve stayed to watch.”
“You’re…” I point a finger at her, lost for words.
“The best?” She flutters her lashes. “Your ride or die?”
“I’ll deal with you later.”
“Mate, wait!” she calls after me, but I’m already flying down the stairs, not bothering with shoes.
If my vague memories from last night were real, Jonathan barely slept. It was close to four in the morning when he spooned me from behind. The last thing he needs is a quarrel with Ethan at the start of his day.
There’s no doubt in my mind that they’ll go at each other’s throats. Ethan might act cool, but he doesn’t hesitate to take a jab at Jonathan — in fact, he makes it his mission. As for my tyrant, well, he has no tolerance for Ethan whatsoever and he doesn’t shy away from showing it.
He even projects that hostility at Elsa, just for the fact that she shares DNA with Ethan.
Sure enough, clipped voices filter in from the main lounge area at the entrance of the King mansion.
“You’re not welcome here, Ethan. Leave.”
“Layla is worried about Aurora and I can’t leave without making sure she’s safe.”
“Her safety and her entire existence are none of your fucking concern.” Jonathan’s voice turns eerily calm but with a threatening undertone. “Don’t look at her. Don’t talk to her. Don’t fucking breathe near her.”
A chuckle comes from Ethan. “And if I refuse?”
“Let the answer to that be a surprise.”
“Are you threatening me, Jon?”
“Don’t call me that.”
“What? Jon? That’s what I used to call you back in the day.”
“You lost the right to call me that a long time ago, you fucking bastard.”
“I lost my wife, too.” Ethan’s tone hardens.
“Not before she locked up and tortured my son, whom, should I remind you, you kidnapped.”
“That’s because you burned my whole fucking factory, Jonathan. People died. Aiden didn’t.”