Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129571 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 518(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
“If you have me call these people, there will be no bowing out of it or changing your mind,” Dad warned.
“I don’t plan to back out of this. We both know that our special friend should have been put to sleep a long time ago.”
“I’ll give you that,” Dad said with disgust. “I shouldn’t have passed the devil to you, but in some ways I trusted him.”
“He’s gone too far.”
My father remained quiet for several seconds. This was his typical behavior. If he had to think things through, he simply expected you to sit on the phone and wait until he’d come up with a solution.
And then finally he said, “I have a group that can take care of him.”
“Good. I have a way to trap him in a location.”
“How?”
“I’m holding an engagement party.”
“With who?”
“You mean who will be hosting it?”
“No, son. Who are you getting engaged to?”
“Jasmine.” I sighed again. “You know who. Don’t be disrespectful.”
“Calm down. I just don’t think you’re serious. That girl is not someone you marry. She’s just for—”
“I don’t think you want to say anything disrespectful right now. I’ve seen enough death in these past months. This week has been the roughest. I have no patience with you right now, old man.”
“Old man?”
“It’s been a long week.”
“I just think it’s a bad idea to—”
I interrupted him before he could say anything else. “Call who you have to call so we can finish this.”
“I’ll make the call. Don’t you worry about that. However, is this engagement party just a trap or are you actually thinking seriously of marrying that girl?”
“Her name is Jasmine.”
“And you want her to be your wife?”
“Yes. Without a question.”
His laughter traveled over the phone line. “You’re going to make a big fool out of yourself this time.”
“Just contact your group and have them phone me, please.”
“You can’t possibly be serious about marrying her or—”
I hung up, satisfied that he would do what I asked, but aggravated with his judgement of Jasmine. If things had been easier for all of us, I would’ve had the time to introduce her to him, take her up to New York for a week, give him days to be around her, and slowly fall in love like I did.
He probably would still not like Jasmine after a week. All he cares about is body and pedigree. His only thoughts about my future wife have been, how will it help my dick or our company be happy. He never concerned himself with my heart.
Chapter 28
Jasmine
We had two hours before sunset. The press conference would begin in a few minutes, and I was scared shitless. Chase and I had arrived at the Sherlock Holmes museum. Right at 221B Baker Street in central London.
Chase wore his signature look—a designer black suit that formed around his chiseled frame with a white button-up shirt opened at the top. His hair lay back in chestnut waves. My hair was pinned into an updo. A team had done my makeup and outfitted me in a simple black and white dress with red pumps.
Still, my heart boomed with fear.
“Why this place?” I’d asked to keep the scattered thoughts out of my head.
A chilly breeze blew past us. Camera crews parked their vans on the small street as more press gathered several feet in front of us.
“Do you remember the Ripper tour?” Chase asked.
“How could I ever forget it?”
“True.” He captured my hand. “At the beginning, the guide discussed video games that featured Holmes against Ripper.”
“You were around to hear what the guide said?” I asked.
“Yes. I was parked in a car across the street, forcing myself to stay inside and not rush out of the vehicle to grab you.”
Although freaking out about talking to the press and being on camera, I couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m glad you stayed focused on your plan.”
“Me too.” He touched my hand. “You’re shaking. Stop that.”
“I’ll try.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I don’t see why we have to get on TV.”
“This is my life, Jasmine. Ever since Lucy’s body at the ball, the world has been asking questions.”
“And today you’re going to answer them?” I asked.
“No, today I’m going to dance around the news team and keep everyone busy, while placing the cheese out for Benny.”
I bit my lip. “This is dangerous. Maybe we should try something else.”
“As long as he’s alive, every place and event will be unsafe. It’s time to deal with him head-on. What happened this week won’t happen again.”
I blew out a long breath. “Okay, Sherlock.”
“It’s Mr. Holmes to you. In fact, very soon I want you to moan that to me while I take you from behind and call you Mrs. Hudson.”
“Absolutely not.” I turned around and gazed at the building behind us. It represented more of an old famous person’s dwelling than a grand information center. The curator had taken over an old boarding house, delved into the mind of the genius sleuth created by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and decorated the whole place in the fictional character’s delights.