Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78026 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
“The deal said no other people. It mentioned nothing about going to my best friend’s family restaurant and hanging out with her brothers. The others are coming back soon, you know. I’ve been waiting for so long to reunite with them again.”
“Aurora,” he warns. “You should know by now that I’m not the type to be provoked. If you do it, you better be ready to bear the consequences.”
“What do you mean?”
“Don’t test me or I’ll destroy all their careers. Is that the kind of guilt you want to live with for the rest of your life?”
The arsehole. I should’ve known he’d threaten them.
“Hurt them in any way and all of this is over, Jonathan. I’ve lost too many people I’ve called family, and I won’t allow you to take this one away from me, too.”
“Then do as I said.”
“You do as I say.”
“What?”
“The deal we talked about the other day works both ways, too. If you want me to do something I wouldn’t usually agree on, you’ll do something for me.”
He releases the menu, letting it fall to the table with disapproval written all over his features. “Let me guess, another night in my bed without the punishment part.”
“No. Something before we go back.”
He places both hands at his chin, forming a steeple. “Pray tell.”
“Not here. I’ll tell you when we leave.”
“And you’ll do as you’re told?”
“Let’s order.”
“Is that a yes, Aurora?”
“It’s a yes until further notice.”
Jonathan’s lips twitch in a smile at the way I repeat his words. Then he mutters, “The fucking attitude.”
We order couscous and kebabs after I tell Jonathan it’s my favourite. Kenza adds her special type of Tunisian salad on the side. It’s too spicy, and my cheeks heat to the point of nearly exploding, but I can’t stop eating. Not even when sweat breaks on my temples.
Jonathan shakes his head at me and slides his cola towards me when I finish mine.
When Kenza and her husband, Hamza, come to thank Jonathan for the charity donation, I expect him to be his usual snobbish prick self. To my surprise, he actually compliments their food, saying it’s different than any of the high-end restaurants he’s visited in North Africa and the Middle East.
Layla and I exchange a stunned look behind their back. She mouths, “Daddy” and I’m tempted to hit her with a spoon.
She runs away first.
The rest of dinner is actually really pleasant. Jonathan and I talk about the food, the culture, and he tells me about his trips to the countries in North Africa and the Middle East.
“You’re so lucky.” I sip from my water. “I haven’t left the UK.”
“Not even once?”
“Nope. I went to Scotland, then I came to London. The years in Scotland were a blur, I didn’t even get to enjoy it.”
“Because you were running away?” He puts his spoon on the table and places his elbows on the surface, his entire attention on me.
“Yeah. I couldn’t stop thinking that I’d be found. That’s why I never spent long in one place.”
“Found by whom? Maxim?”
“No, not exactly him. The victims’ families.” A shudder goes down my spine. “I was attacked several times by them during the course of the trial, and I always thought they’d come to kill me.”
“What is that nonsense?” His voice gains an edge. “You testified against your own father.”
“They don’t see it like that. Some of them still think I’m an accomplice and…and…some police officers shared their thought process.” I shake my head to not let the tears loose and rid myself of the pain I felt as I lay with my blood surrounding me. I don’t even know why I’m telling Jonathan all this.
“That’s why you dropped out of the Witness Protection Program. You didn’t trust them.”
“How…how do you know that?”
“I know a lot more about you than you think.”
“Really? Like what?”
“I know you’re protecting Layla and her family by keeping her in the dark about your past, so even if it does comes back to light, all they would need to say is the truth, which is they didn’t know. I also know that Maxim wants you to get him out of prison by revoking your testimony and that his lawyer is bothering you. Which, by the way, will be taken care of. He’ll never come within your vicinity again.”
My mouth hangs open. God. He’s so thorough. Just for helping me keep Stephan away, I murmur, “Thank you.”
“Maxim will rot in his cell until the day he dies. I’ll make sure of it.”
The urge to hug him hits me and it takes everything in me not to act on it. So I smile and thank him again.
A while later, we’re out of the restaurant. I tell Jonathan that I want to walk instead of going straight to the car.
He doesn’t seem amused by the idea, but he walks beside me as we head to the park.