Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 392(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“Toothbrush?” he asked when I zipped my bag.
“Tooth… oh, right,” I said, shaking my head. “I, ah, I think I’m still a little…” I said, trailing off.
“Understandable,” the detective said, nodding, before I turned to make my way into the bathroom.
He shifted his position as I did that, keeping an eye on me as I grabbed my toothbrush, paste, and a hairbrush, figuring everything else could be found at the hotel. Or for cheap at the pharmacy.
Speaking of money.
Shit.
How was I going to get back into my closet to grab it with the detective’s eyes on me.
“Ma’am?” the detective asked when I stood in the bathroom doorway, feeling lost.
“Oh, ah. I think I forgot to pack, um, you know… under… things,” I said, not having to fake the heat that rose in my cheeks at the mention of panties in front of a stranger.
“Right. Right. Well, you need those,” he said, looking equally uncomfortable as I rushed back to the closet, rummaging around, gathering way too many bras, socks, and panties. Because they hid what I actually went into the closet to grab, then shoving the whole mess into the overnight bag.
“Good?” the detective asked when I turned back to him.
“I, ah, I think I have everything I need,” I agreed.
“We should be able to release the apartment back to you in the next twenty-four hours. We need time to process.”
“Take your time,” I said, immediately regretting the words. “I, ah, I don’t know if I can stay here right now. I don’t think I can go past the kitchen without seeing…” I trailed off, and didn’t have to fake the shudder that moved through me.
“Understandable,” the detective said, handing me my purse as we moved through the main area of the apartment. “We will be in touch, Mrs. Polat,” the detective said.
It was a throwaway comment.
But it seems ominous to me as I walked on numb legs down the hallway and into the privacy of the elevator.
It wasn’t until the doors were sliding closed that something else finally clicked.
A hand reached through the doors, moving inside, and laying claim to my lips.
By the time the elevator made it to the lobby and the doors slid open, I was sure of it.
Brio was who had cut off the hands of my husband and left them for me like a present.
Hands that would never strike me again.
But he had no idea how epically he had just fucked up my life…
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ezmeray
The Blue Star was gorgeous from the outside. Seemingly endless floors of shining windows and cream-colored brick. It was an old, stately structure that had been lovingly cared for over the years.
But I don’t think that outward beauty could have prepared me for what was inside.
It was a mix of classic and modern. Grand, but understated.
It was all champagne-colored walls and floors with coffered ceilings, massive chandeliers, and black accents.
It even had its own distinct scent, something like leather and spice that made you think of a wealthy man.
Wealthy was probably right.
I knew even before I walked up to the desk that it was going to cost a small fortune. And there was no stopping the pit in my stomach, even if I knew I wouldn’t have to answer to Eren about the expense.
It wasn’t just Eren I had to worry about.
It was his brothers.
And the organization as a whole.
Shaking those thoughts away, I accepted my key cards and made my way toward the elevator, trying not to seem as dazed as I felt right then.
I might have splurged on a room, but I hadn’t gone overboard and gotten a suite.
Still, the single queen room was impressive. The cream carpet matched the heavy drapes that were left open to show the city below.
The wall behind the bed and the one across from it were black. There was a mounted TV over an electric fireplace. There was no desk, but in its place an inviting-looking lounge chair.
The bathroom was all sand-colored tile with black fixtures. There was a soaking tub, a glass shower stall, and the fluffiest towels I had ever seen.
I busied myself for the first couple of minutes, setting my overnight bag in the closet, putting my toiletries in the bathroom, then attacking my mouth that I hadn’t gotten a chance to clean since the throwing up thing.
Finished with that, I went back into my room and picked up the vinyl bag that I had needed to hide amongst the panties, bras, and socks to keep detective Newsom from seeing it.
It was something I’d hidden from Eren since the first week of our marriage as well.
Hidden in plain sight.
Because it had “TAMPONS” scrawled across it in bright red font on the all-white background.
If there was one way to keep a man out of my business, it was to imply it had something to do with my monthly cycle.