Total pages in book: 48
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 44998 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 225(@200wpm)___ 180(@250wpm)___ 150(@300wpm)
“You don’t need to apologize for me,” Jay mumbles as we leave the building.
“I wasn’t apologizing for you. I was doing it for me. Chris is the Chief ME and the only one you haven’t pissed off—yet—and I like it that way.” Jay’s gruff demeanor doesn’t do him, or us, any favors but he’s damn good at what he does in the field.
After a few minutes of silence, Jay stops and turns to me with a frown on his face. “Can’t believe the boss is monitoring our overtime with this case hanging over our heads.” He’s shaking his head in disgust. “We need to hit up those fucking meetings all over the goddamn city and we have to wait until tomorrow.”
“I’ll get online and check the meeting closest to their houses,” I offer, which makes Jay groan.
“God, is everything online now?”
“Yep,” I say. “I’m not even sure the people at the meetings would tell us if these guys were ever there. Anonymity and all.”
He rakes a hand through his thick hair before blowing out a frustrated breath. “We gotta try it. Come on, Cinderella, I’ll get you back to the palace.”
“Funny.” I smirk. “That joke still not old yet?”
Mischief lights up his face. “Detective Pragmatist staying at a multi-million-dollar penthouse apartment with her billionaire boyfriend? I imagine you’ll be hearing that nickname at your retirement party.”
I roll my eyes at his teasing, but he’s right. Practically the entire precinct has been calling me Cinderella since those damn cameras were found and Damien offered his penthouse as my safe haven.
“At least there’s a ton of security and cameras that are supposed to be there.” That and Damien’s doorman provide an extra level of protection than my house. “I turned down the personal bodyguard he offered.” Just thinking about the reason I’m going to Damien’s penthouse instead of my own house puts me right back on edge.
For days I’ve been trying to just shake it off, but I can’t. I haven’t been able to shake anything off because I think of all the private moments some perv witnessed. Me in my home, my safe space where I can relax, unwind from my crazy life.
It has to be the killer. Right?
That’s the thought that steals all my focus until Jay walks me to the door of Damien’s building before taking off with a laugh. “See you in the morning, Cinderella.”
I chuckle about that on the elevator ride up and up to what still feels like the one thousandth floor. But it doesn’t cover the nerves over the intruder. The killer has been in my house, at least once to install the cameras. God only knows if he was there any other time. I shudder at the thought.
The thought of a stranger in my house doesn’t just piss me off—it terrifies me. I hate that someone was there, violating my space, but somehow, being here with Damien feels right, even if the way I ended up here still makes me uneasy. It’s only been a few days, but it feels surreal, like I’m living in a dream I didn’t ask for. “A real-life dream,” I say to myself, stepping into the living room with a sigh.
The walls of windows stretch from floor to very high ceiling, offering a stunning view of the city below. It’s overwhelming but beautiful. The furniture is deep navy and cream, making the massive sectional look impossibly inviting. It’s gorgeous. And already, it feels too much like home, a home I wasn’t planning on having with him, not like this.
I head toward the primary suite, pushing open the door and taking in the bathroom that’s still breathtaking, no matter how many times I see it. Heaven on earth. The shower and tub sit side by side, separated from the rest of the space, while the toilet is neatly tucked away on the opposite wall.
I walk to the sink and start undressing, peeling off my clothes one by one until they’re in a heap on the floor. My muscles ache from the day’s stress, and the thought of a hot shower is the only thing pulling me forward.
I step into the glass shower stall, and the steam hits me instantly, wrapping around me like a cocoon. The water falls from the shower head in steady, hot streams, and for the first time in what feels like forever, my mind starts to quiet. My heartbeat slows. The tension loosens its grip on my chest.
I close my eyes, letting the water wash away the chaos, if only for a moment. Calm. Finally.
I step out of the bathroom feeling like a whole new person…for all of thirty seconds before the case creeps back into my mind. Shaking it off, I throw on some clothes and head downstairs to see what Damien’s private chef has cooked up tonight—because, of course, he has a chef who can whip up anything I can dream of.