Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
She fumed beside me and finally found her voice. “I will tell them both that you spoke to me like this. You will be punished.”
“Then I’ll tell your father you’ve been fucking Ellis. So go ahead, be a bitch. See where that gets you.” I raised my voice as she sputtered. “Hey, can we get some music back here? I don’t think I can even stand listening to her breathe.”
The chauffeur raised his eyebrows at Sophia and she stammered out “f-fine.”
The music rose, classical and airy, as we hit the main highway. Sophia didn’t speak for the rest of the trip. It was only a small victory, but it was mine.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
STELLA
THE JOURNEY ENDED AT a sprawling Tudor mansion surrounded by a lush lawn dotted with shade trees. No gate stopped entry from the main road, but a guard stood at the ready to check our credentials. Several cars hemmed us in as we approached the mansion.
We pulled through the roundabout and stopped in front of the massive dark wood doors as people climbed the shallow front steps. I opened my door, happy to be away from Sophia’s presence. Sin and Cal walked up behind us, Cal greeting everyone in his usual jovial manner. He stationed himself outside the doors and waved us through.
“Whose house is this?” The interior was dark. Heavy curtains and old, faded paintings gave it an 18th century feel.
“Judge Montagnet’s.” Sin took my arm as Ellis walked up to Sophia. The two of them slipped into a side room.
Sin led me toward a bar set up in a stuffy sitting area. The room wasn’t large enough to hold the number of people, and we had to wade past several well-wishers and gawkers before making it to the bar.
“How was your car ride?” Sin pointed to a bottle and held two fingers up. It should have come off as rude, but seemed more authoritative than anything else.
“Blissfully quiet.”
He snorted. “What did you do?”
“Nothing.” I snagged a strawberry from the nearest serving platter and bit into it, the cold, sweet juice running down my throat.
The barman poured two reds and handed them over.
“What’s this?” I sniffed, the odor strong and almost bitter.
“Port.” He tipped his glass, and I took a sip, the flavor overpowering.
“That’s kind of intense.” I shook my head and set my glass down.
He smiled and drained his.
Was it always like this? Us talking like two normal people in a normal house surrounded by normal guests? We couldn’t be further from reality.
Sin set his glass on the bar and leaned close. “Have you found him?”
“No.” I scanned the crowd, looking for a particular server.
“Let’s mingle. Maybe you’ll see him.”
I pulled the card with Sin’s cell number and instructions from my pocket and lodged it in my palm. Following him through the throng of people, I kept an eye out for the server who’d spoken to me at Fort LaRoux. My hope faded each time a server passed and it wasn’t him.
Sin stopped and talked with different groups of people, laughing and joking about the trials. It gave me the opportunity to continue my search. I tried not to meet anyone’s eyes, but the occasional guest leered at me or tried to touch me. Sin moved us along to prevent any scenes and to keep the too-eager at bay.
We’d made the circuit through the room with no luck.
“He’s not here.”
“He has to be. Let’s keep looking.” Sin pulled me along behind him through the crush of bodies.
My name whipped through the surrounding crowd as the guests voiced their ugly thoughts. I ignored them and focused on finding the one friendly face.
We wound around through another sitting area, a library, and past the door to the kitchen.
“Stop. Let me look in there.”
Sin glanced around at the almost-empty back hall. “Make it quick.”
I pushed through the door and darted to the side as a server with a tray full of crawfish barreled past. The kitchen was all sound and smells—too many people cooking, chopping, and layering food onto trays. Everything was stainless steel, and the room was almost unbearably hot. I peered at the workers, hoping to see him.
There. He was busy adding garnish to a platter full of bacon-wrapped scallops. I bypassed someone flaming up a pan on a wide range and several servers carrying trays. A man in a high chef’s hat stood toward the rear of the kitchen barking orders. Something told me I didn’t want to be noticed by him.
I stood at the server’s elbow. “Hi.”
His brown eyes met mine and his fingers stilled. “I remember you. You okay?”
“Yes. I think the guests said they wanted more of the bruschetta.” I pressed the card into his hand and turned.
“O-okay. I’ll get right on that.” I didn’t look back as I slipped out the door.
“Success,” I whispered as Sin took my hand and led me back to the foyer. He glanced to the sweeping stairs to the second floor, wider at the bottom than the top, as people climbed.