The excessive number of guards, the whispers surroundingLambert’s business dealings, his fast-growing fortune. It all made sense now.
And no wonder Rose hadn’t escaped after a week or two undercover. She hadn’t ended up in some random household from which she might sneak away, she’d landed in Lambert’s secure compound surrounded by fences and men with rifles.
She hadn’t stood a chance.
Caitlyn and Lambert were on the grass that edged the runwaybefore he spoke again. “I discussed it with my wife, and we have a request. Our way of saying thanks for what you did today.”
And she had to pretend her world hadn’t been tossed. She cleared her throat and tried to pay attention. “What’s that, sir?”
“You must come to Arielle’s engagement party,” he said. His youngest daughter was set to marry into one of the richest “high white” families onBarbados—descendants of the original plantation owners—in October. “And bring your fiancé. I want to meet the man who can handle such a firecracker.” He winked.
Shit. Warning bells went off in her brain. “Oh, sir, I’m not sure—”
“No arguments.” He stalked toward the plane, and the rest of his entourage followed. “If you’ve already booked clients for that evening I’ll pay to have someone elsetake them. Tell your man to take a weekend off. Tell him it’simportant.” She opened her mouth to protest and his expression turned hard as he looked over his shoulder. “No arguments. I’ll see you both there.”
Dammit. She had to get out of this. Maybe the police could help. Maybe none of this would matter after today.
He owns the police.
Glenn had straight up told her that.
To maintain hertrusted position within his sphere—and find a way to help Rose and anyone else imprisoned behind his walls—she needed to pretend nothing was amiss.
And if the police failed her, she had to attend the party. With Kurt on her arm.
Trapped like a spider under a cat’s paw, she swallowed hard. “Of course. We’d be honored.”
