I flipped through the other texts, mainly pleas from my parents, both of whom I hadn’t spoken with since leaving in tears. Honestly, I didn’t want to either. Mom was likely having a meltdown over the Ever headline.
There were a few from Bridget, who I fired a I’m fine, call ya later text to, not wanting to keep a pregnant woman worrying. But there were no more texts from Ethan.
So I sent one to him, owing him for saving me in my time of need, even if he did come across like a creepy stalker at the time.
Thank you.
I watched the screen, eagerly awaiting something in response for the rest of the ride, but nothing came.
The next time I looked up, we were pulling into an underground parking garage, the entire vehicle dipping into darkness. We passed luxury cars galore before reaching a closed garage door, the driver punching in a code before it raised. Inside, we parked beside a silver Mercedes coupe, both men leaping out of the vehicle when it came to a stop.
I followed, awkwardly spilling out onto the concrete, the private bay housing just the two vehicles despite having at least ten parking slots. The bodyguards were already halfway to what appeared to be elevator doors, so I hurried to catch up, the concrete cool beneath my bare feet. I peeked at the bottom of one and cringed, the skin filthy from running through the streets barefoot.
The driver tapped in another code and the elevator doors parted, the three of us stepping in while he entered yet another series of numbers into a pin pad once inside. Jesus. Where were we going? Fort Knox? The doors closed and the elevator began its ascent, the journey as quiet as the car ride.
Every floor felt like a lifetime as I watched the numbers tick by, the doors opening into what appeared to be a lobby, nothing but marble as far as I could see. It was cold as I stepped onto it, and I felt guilty putting my filthy feet on something so pristine. But the men trudged forward, so I didn’t have a chance to worry about it.
We stopped at a solid black door, the high-gloss finish showing our reflections, me looking impossibly small between two colossal bodies. Another code led to our entry, the open door slapping me in the face with a scene I’d seen before, the same backdrop as the night of my video call with Ethan.
Huge windows lined every wall, offering water views I hadn’t known were possible in the city. The white marble of the lobby carried inside, though subtle touches made the place feel less like a museum and more like a home from photos dotting the walls to textured throw pillows on the colossal sectional in the distance. As I got closer, I realized the photos were family ones dotted with Ethan, some with two other men I assumed were his brothers, others with an elderly couple when he was young.
My guts twisted, the reality settling in. This was Ethan’s home. He’d lied to me that night on the phone.
What else had he lied about?
Ethan
The media coverage was heavier than I anticipated, the press descending on Boston like locusts. A few leads were circling, though nothing concrete or damning surfaced. What did, however, sent me over the edge.
A clip of Kee aired on the nightly news, her leaving her apartment in her regular t-shirt and jeans, hair its usual mass of bouncing curls. She rapidly went from surprised to terrified, a group of paparazzi pinning her in a coffeeshop as the guards had relayed earlier. Actually seeing it with my own eyes was unbearable. I wanted to charge through the mob to rescue her, smashing them one by one. They had no right to snare her in a trap, filming her while she cried, scared out of her mind while they waited like rabid dogs.
It was too much.
I was still waiting to hear from my attorneys, the mountain of paperwork they filed that morning trickling into the hands of other lawyers, an atomic bomb unleashed on everyone in my path. They might have had the upper hand initially with the Bold article catching me off-guard, but my scorched Earth approach would leave no wrongdoer standing when I was through with them.
While the attorneys handled their end, I handled mine, sending a letter to the Lorelei from Bali, a handwritten taunt added for good measure. All it took was signing into a site and poof Ever was almost eight-thousand miles away from London and ten-thousand from Boston. That left plenty of time to focus on the intricacies of the next release, one that would blow Boston’s out of the water.
The security team I put in place reported back that Kee was safely in the penthouse, so at least I had one less thing to worry about. She’d have questions, obviously, but none that couldn’t be glossed over. I’d purposely left my career open-ended. For all she knew, I was making bank in tech.
It was safer that way. Safer than the truth. If she knew the depths of the lies, I’d lose her forever.
“You want me to do what?” the man repeated, pulling me out of my own head. I was running on an hour or two of sleep, so it wasn’t hard to get lost in thought.
“You heard me the first two times.” I didn’t make a habit of repeating myself, and I wasn’t about to start. “Sounds impossible, I know. But make it happen.”
The man let out a deep, throaty chuckle. “Impossible n'est pas français.”
Damn straight. I was forking over a pretty penny for his work. If I’d learned anything in life, it was that money made anything possible. It could gain entry
