Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103124 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 412(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Nico’s warning from the night before weaves in and out of my conscience.
But what if I’m back before anyone realizes I’m gone?
I step into the empty hallway. The only sound I can hear is the low whine of a vacuum cleaner coming from the kitchen.
The cleaner is here.
She has a cart.
A cart big enough to fit a small person inside.
Then I realize the ridiculousness of that plan. I’m not a small person. I’m five seven with double ds and hips made for childbearing. Well, according to some. Cough, Jerkface Simon, cough.
Another idea bounces in. Does the cleaner know I’m a prisoner?
I could walk out with her. Pretend I’m simply a normal person leaving her house to get art supplies. Not a prisoner using her as a means to escape.
I doubt Arianna would stop me. Although she would call Nico—her blind faith in him would be admirable if it wasn’t so misplaced—and he would have a hissy fit of all hissy fits.
And it’s guaranteed that the bodyguards would try to stop me, and no doubt they’re lingering nearby.
But as I sneak down the hallway, I can’t see anyone but the cleaner finishing up in the kitchen.
“Good heavens, you scared me, child,” she says as I magically appear beside the kitchen counter.
“I’m sorry,” I say, trying to hide my nerves. “Are you finishing up?”
“All done and dusted.” She winds up the electrical cord on the vacuum cleaner. “I’ll be back next Tuesday.”
“Oh great, I’ll walk out with you,” I say brightly as if I wasn’t in the middle of a great escape. I glance over my shoulder to check for any looming bodyguards or Arianna, but the hallway remains empty.
“That would be lovely, but I just need to give Miss Arianna my invoice for Mr. De Kysa.”
I step in front of her. “That’s okay. I’ll make sure he gets it. In fact, I’m on my way to see him right now.”
For a second, I think she’ll insist on speaking to Arianna, which wouldn’t bode well for my escape plans. But then she relaxes. “Are you sure?”
“Actually, Mr. De Kysa asked if I could bring it with me. He even mentioned something about a pay raise?”
Her eyes widen. “Well, he certainly is already generous.”
“Not generous enough,” I say, taking the invoice from her and guiding her and the vacuum cleaner toward her cleaning cart by the elevator. “He’s a squillionaire. I assure you, you deserve it, and he can afford it.”
She looks pleased with the idea, and I vow silently to make sure she gets the pay raise from him as promised. It will be my first job as Nico’s wife.
The elevator doors open, and we both pile inside.
“That really is very generous of him,” she says as we ride the car to the basement.
I smile at her. “I know he looks like a big ole meanie, but really, he’s just a big ole softy.”
Which is a big ole lie.
When the door dings open, I walk with her to her van and help load her trolley and cleaning products into the back. And when she drives out, I escape out the garage door and disappear into the busy street.
The door looks new.
And it throws me off guard.
Did someone kick it in?
Oh my God, has someone been inside my apartment?
A surge of anxiety rolls through me, and my instinct tells me that if I were a smart woman, I would turn around and leave.
But I stare at it long enough to talk myself out of leaving and shove my key in the lock.
Thankfully, it still works, and I’m able to let myself in, and the moment I step inside my apartment, I instantly relax. I sag against the door and suck in a deep breath, enjoying the airy scents of vanilla and patchouli, and the subtle hint of artist paint. This is my happy place. I feel safe here.
There is nowhere they won’t find you.
Nico’s words dip into my thoughts, and a cold shiver runs up my spine. He’ll be pissed if he finds out I did this, but he can’t keep me locked up like some precious gem because he’s afraid of what could happen. He needs to let me have some freedom.
Still, I’m not naive to the dangers his world brings, and now that he’s dragged me back into it by the hair, I have to be careful, whether I like it or not.
I’m tempted to spend the day in the village. To walk through Washington Square and take a moment on the bench seat and let the spring sunlight kiss my skin while I listen to the buskers.
But despite my desire for freedom, I don’t want Arianna worrying about me. When she realizes I’m gone, she will panic and call Nico, and he’ll probably send out the National Guard or do something equally over the top. Besides, Arianna is sweet and kind and doesn’t deserve the worry.