Total pages in book: 192
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 182641 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 913(@200wpm)___ 731(@250wpm)___ 609(@300wpm)
He did say he had ‘shit to do’ and couldn’t simply show up like an employee on call.
It’s not like I want to see him, so who fucking cares. I just wanted the reward he promised me.
I scoff, shake off my gloves, and wipe the sweat from my chest with a towel. A promise from some back-alley bad boy? Please.
“Someone’s frustrated.” Boston smiles. “Something on your mind or maybe … someone?”
My eyes slice to my sister, narrowing.
We used to talk boys, but that was before she signed herself over to the worst one she could find.
I give her my back, and she follows me to the gym shower, stripping down beside me and stepping under the spray as I do.
“Come on, Coco. Don’t shut me out. I fucked up. I know, but—”
“But nothing, Boston.” I quickly scrub my scalp, diving farther beneath the warm spray. “You made a choice that will taint our name. If you weren’t Dad’s daughter, you’d be dead already.”
“Okay, that’s dramatic.”
“It’s the truth.”
“Enzo doesn’t even know I’m here, so you can stop expecting him to bust through the gates and break your perfect record of control.”
I turn my shower off and face her.
“How is that exactly? How does a man who’s nearly as powerful as Dad not know his fiancée ran away?”
She shrugs, turning toward her towel. “Because he doesn’t care. It’s not like he wanted me. He knew it was a good deal, that’s all.”
A frown builds along my brow. Is that … hurt? Bitterness?
It doesn’t matter. Her response doesn’t answer the question, so I ask again. “How does he not know?”
“Trust me, he doesn’t.”
“Boston.”
“Oh my god, fine! Because he’s gone, okay?!” she shouts. “You know how Dad dropped me off for this stupid ‘three-month get-to-know-each-other’ clause he put into the contract, with a midpoint ‘check-in’? Well, shocker, but Enzo Fikile didn’t hold up his end.”
“What do you mean?”
“Isn’t it obvious?” She looks away. “My husband-to-be didn’t do what he said he would.”
My head tugs back, and I blink. “You were there for three months. Are you telling me you have spent no time with Enzo at all?”
“You can’t tell Dad!”
“Boston!”
“No, okay!” she shouts back. “Unless you count the three minutes he stood in my doorway the day of the ‘check-in.’ I was dolled up to the max, full-blown heiress mode, Coco, and he didn’t even blink. He looked me in the eye, told me Dad had just arrived, and then he said, and I quote, ‘I like it here. It’s nice, and Enzo’s people treat me well. This is a good choice, Dad. I’m sure.’” Boston frowns at her clothes as she pulls them on. “I didn’t realize until he said his own name those were the words he expected me to say to Dad when he asked for my final decision, so I did.” Her eyes find mine. “That’s the only time I saw Enzo outside of the day I arrived when he showed me to my room, which was on the complete opposite end of the estate than his, by the way.” She turns, picks her gym clothes up off the floor and sets them in the hamper for the staff. “He was gone the next morning and hasn’t been back since.”
Damn. I would go stir-crazy alone all that time, but really, her explanation only makes this worse.
She knows it, adding, “It would have been better if I said he beat me or let his team have their way with me, wouldn’t it?” She looks away, chewing on her lip. “God, this turned into a mess. I should have just …” She swallows, facing away from me.
I walk up behind her, laying my chin on her shoulder, and she reaches up, her palm flattening on my cheek as she leans her head against mine.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers, tears thickening her tone.
“I know.”
She hangs her head and we both understand.
She’s sorry for what she did, but she’s also sorry for lying because she and I both know she is lying.
Why and about which part is yet to be seen.
Back in my room, I get ready for class, meeting Bronx and Delta at the car two minutes later than usual.
Sai narrows his eyes. “You’re never late.”
“And you never take days off.” I widen my eyes mockingly. “Guess it’s true what the mundane say, ‘some things do change.’”
I slide inside and the girls follow, their wide, entertaining eyes flicking from me to where Sai closes the door. I roll up the soundproof window and click the button for the privacy setting. A sheet of darkness slips over the glass and the girls’ gazes sharpen.
“What’s going on?” Delta asks.
“My sister is up to something and my dad won’t talk to me about what he knows. It’s been five days. The man knows something.” I look to Bronx, who is already waiting expectantly. “Think you can find out where Enzo Fikile is without alerting him someone’s looking for him?”