"I mean...nothing, I guess." I grab a canister of honey-roasted cashews and turn toward him. "I have never had these before, but I'm pretty confident I'll love them."
Alec raises his eyebrow. "You do know he's super obsessed with you, right?"
I return the nuts to the shelf and shut the door. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, the guy spent a hundred million dollars to buy this building just because you didn't like your boss."
I shoot him a look that could probably kill. "Didn't likeis a massive understatement. The guy was a fucking creep."
"Did you actually do it? Kill him, I mean." Alec follows me at my side, his hands behind his back, just going along with whatever I do.
I pause at the island and replay the scene in my head, my eyes darting across every bit of the kitchen he had cornered me in before I climbed on top of him and stabbed him repeatedly until eventually, he stopped moving. It was interesting, watching the blood flow slow from his wounds as his heart stopped beating.
"I did," I whisper, almost afraid to admit it to him. He already knows the truth, but saying it makes it something I can never take back.
Alec places his hand on my shoulder and tilts his head. "Hey, I don't judge you."
I glance up at him. "I'm a murderer."
"The only difference between you and me, Cor, is that I haven't done it yet." His dark gaze peers deeply into my eyes. "That makes us the same." He loosens a breath. "Actually, that makes me way worse, because it's premeditated. Pretty sure I'll go to jail for a long time. You were acting in self-defense."
"I wanted to kill him long before that."
"Yeah, then maybe we're more alike than you think." He presses his finger to my nose. "You're not going to convince me you're a bad guy, babe."
"I'm kind of tired," I tell him as I leave the kitchen and change the subject. It's not a lie, I'm exhausted, but I try not to think about what happened with my boss because it brings up other things that have happened in my life I would rather forget.
"Yeah, of course." Alec kicks off from the spot where he is standing and joins me in my pursuit of finding a place to crash.
"If I'm not mistaken..." I turn down the hall and walk a few steps before stopping at a door. "This should be one of the master suites."
"One of them?" Alec asks.
"Yeah, there are three suites and two other bedrooms—not including the office and study that could easily be considered bedrooms, too."
"Damn..." Alec reaches for the handle and pushes the door open. He leans against the frame and glances inside.
I walk in slowly, taking in every little thing. The plush throw blanket hanging on the edge of the bed, an exact replica of the one in my room at home. The nightstand has a few books that have been on my to-be-read pile for ages, but I haven't gotten around to reading them yet. And tucked between two pillows is a stuffed teddy bear that I've had since I was a kid...
Picking it up, I hold it to my chest and wonder how it's possible Miller could have gotten it here.
"Like I said, I think he's obsessed with you," Alec says from the doorway.
I glance back at him, the bear still in my grasp. "This is too much, right?"
He walks into the room and opens the double closet doors, revealing a massive walk-in closet with tons of clothes. "I mean, give him credit for being thorough."
I go to Alec's side and study the items that more than likely fit my body perfectly. "It's giving...stalker," I say.
Alec shrugs. "It's kind of romantic if you ask me."
I had the same thought but didn't want to say it out loud and risk him judging me. But Alec has never, and probably would never judge me, even if it is an irrational fear of mine.
"It is, isn't it?" I step in and run my finger over the clothes, all of which still with their tags attached.
How did he have time to do all of this? And how was he so sure I'd like what he picked out?
I slide a drawer open and find undergarments, and the next drawer filled with sweatpants. I kind of figured Miller would spring for silk pajamas but apparently he does know me better than that and opted for something more comfortable.
