Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99500 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
The stress now stems from her daughter.
Aubrey is a different kind of game. One she and I play together. Spencer’s on the board too if I’m being honest. Everything’s all fucked-up. I can’t even attempt to be the father figure here because some dipshit is harassing her, so I’m always in protective mode when it comes to her, which certainly doesn’t help me keep my distance.
On the outside, to everyone around me, I’m a picture of control. A pillar of the community. A family man who’s built a solid career representing many of the townspeople.
Inside, I’m unraveling.
The thread of my sanity has long been pulled. By my son, by my wife, by my stepdaughter, and by whoever is hell-bent on terrorizing us.
My inner brooding is interrupted by a text.
Vance: Can you do dinner on Friday night?
Me: THE dinner?
Vance: Yes. THE dinner. It’ll be conveniently photographed and leaked to the press. All you have to do is be you, Hugo. People will eat it up.
I groan and scrub my palm over my face. The only highlight of this dinner is getting to bring Aubrey. Seeing her all dressed up and hanging off my arm like she’s my date is enough to have me agreeing to Vance.
A knock on my office door has me setting my phone down and calling out for the person to enter.
Aubrey saunters in looking unflappable and hot in a sexy navy-blue dress. It’s professional and demure, but it makes my mouth water. Her cheeks turn pink and she avoids my gaze.
My stomach twists at her avoidance. Is she regretting what we did yesterday? Or is she wishing it were Spencer instead? Irritation claws at me.
“Your dad is here to see you,” she says, still unable to look at me. “Want me to send him in?”
“Yeah, Love, send him in.”
She doesn’t respond and hurries out of the office. I don’t like the fact she seems to be avoiding me. I’m over here remembering how fucking perfect she was coming while my mouth was on her and it seems as though she’s trying hard to forget.
God, I’m such an idiot.
I don’t have time to ponder this new development because Dad strides in carrying with him an air of authority. Callum hates Dad and avoids him as much as possible, but it’s not like that for me. Dad has always been my hero. He’s brilliant and fearless and protective over his family. I’ve always admired him and wanted to be like him.
He walks over to my desk and then sits, making himself comfortable. “So, any news?”
“Nothing new. Aubrey is doing okay today. We cleared out the cameras and I changed the code. Only me, Aubrey, and Spencer know it now. Feels safer that way.”
Dad nods, crossing his arms over his chest. His brow dips as he considers me. “I feel like Aubrey is a smokescreen. It’s obviously an attack on our family because of your political aspirations.”
“Nah, I don’t think so,” I argue. “It all started happening when Aubrey arrived.”
I shift uncomfortably in my chair. Dad knows about the snake and cameras, but I left out the part about the note and the pictures. This all started happening when me and Spencer both started our involvement with Aubrey.
“I think it’s an ex. She was involved with Tony’s boss back in LA. I’m inclined to believe it could be him.” I let out a harsh laugh. “Hell, it’s probably Neena.”
Dad dismisses the latter statement too quickly with a sharp wave of his hand. “It’s not Neena.”
“Because she’s such a great mom who wouldn’t hurt her own daughter?”
“Neena would happily take the credit for something that violated your family. I don’t see her around rubbing it in your face.” He diverts his gaze. “Neena isn’t a problem anymore.”
A cold rain tickles over my flesh. It’s not the first time my problem-solving father has been on my radar for my suspicions about Neena’s whereabouts. I don’t think he’d have it in him to kill her, but I’m not so sure he wouldn’t pay someone to do it for him.
“Anymore?”
Dad leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees, eyes finally meeting mine. “She wouldn’t be caught dead touching a snake. No, this is someone more ruthless.”
“More ruthless than my wife?” I ask in astonishment.
“She was your wife. She’s nothing to you now.”
Was?
“We’re still married,” I say slowly.
“Only because she’s unavailable for a divorce,” Dad growls. “We both know you have papers sitting locked away in your desk just waiting for her signature.”
He’s not wrong.
“You need a protection detail,” Dad continues. “I can have someone watch the house twenty-four seven.”
The last thing we need is someone watching us. Our family secrets would be even more vulnerable to public scrutiny than they are now. Not everyone on Dad’s payroll is perfectly loyal to him. He may be naive enough to believe that, but I don’t think for a second we can trust some security guy.