“The lace one. Not a chance. You won’t make it out the door. We’ll never get to dinner,” he growls. I can hear the desire in his voice.
“Mm. Well, maybe when I get home now, I should send you a photo of me wearing each one,” I tease. “Then you can choose.”
“Oh, darling, you are asking for trouble. But while you’re at it, why don’t you send me a photo of you wearing those black lace panties I took off with my teeth the other night.”
I giggle, my cheeks growing red.
We banter back and forth, flirting playfully as I walk towards the car.
“Oh, sorry, my love, I have to go. I need to get a few things done if I’m going to make it home in time.”
“I can’t wait to see you,” I say.
We end the call, and I’m still smiling, beaming, actually, when I spot the car and hurry towards it.
But as I reach the door, my heart leaps into my throat and fear engulfs every fiber of my body.
Lying next to the car, in a pool of dark red blood, is my bodyguard. His shirt and jacket are soaked, sticky with blood.
I drop my book bag and fall to my knees next to him. “No,” I shout, fear flooding me.
My hands press into his neck as I fight panic, searching for a pulse, trying to pull my phone out of my bag again and call for help.
Logic tells me he’s dead, that this is pointless, but I have to try. I need to do something. My fingers fumble and I drop the phone. It lands in the pool of blood. I grab it, not letting myself think about it, and hurriedly wipe it over my jeans. My body is shaking with adrenaline and fear.
“Put it down, sweetheart. You won’t be needing that.”
Before I look up, I know it’s him. Faiz Ilyin. Every cell in my body fires, and it takes all my willpower to lift my eyes up towards him.
Except it’s not him I focus on. It’s the barrel of a 9mm Glock, pointed right at my face. My stomach churns with nausea.
Faiz is standing over me, a cold smile on his face and his arm rigid, holding the gun tensely.
“We’re going to take a little drive together,” he says. “Stand up slowly. And trust me when I say that if you make one wrong move, you’ll look just like this guy.” He cocks his head, gesturing towards the lifeless body in front of me.
His eyes are devoid of humanity, cold and calculating. A true sociopath. I have no doubt he will pull the trigger.
I have no choice. I stand up and do as he asks.
Chapter 25 - Kristopher
I keep glancing at my watch, rushing to get things finished so I can leave. My hopes of getting out of here a little earlier have been useless, but if I leave in the next ten minutes, I’ll still be on time.
I hurry to send off the last few emails, then stand, satisfied that anything else can wait until tomorrow. Or the next day. Who cares. All I want to do now is focus on Georgie and the incredible night I have planned for us.
It’s her fault I didn’t leave early. Her cheeky phone call distracted me so much, filling my head with thoughts of her wearing those ridiculously sexy dresses. It slowed me down. And later tonight, I’ll have to punish her for it. I grin, shoving my phone into my pocket as I picture slapping my hand across that gorgeous ass of hers.
It’s six. Time to go. The rest of my people left at five, and I’m alone here, but that’s nothing unusual.
I’m about to close my laptop when the coldness of his voice grates over me like gravel.
“Hello, Kristopher,” my father says, stepping into the doorway of my office.
I’m about to snarl at him, warning him that he’s in danger for his arrogance. But my heart stops dead in my chest.
He has Georgie in front of him, locked against his body with his arm wrapped around her throat and a gun pressing into her temple.
She’s breathing heavily, her eyes wide and her mouth tight with fear.
