Total pages in book: 121
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114793 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 574(@200wpm)___ 459(@250wpm)___ 383(@300wpm)
It was the kind of meal someone gives a grandkid after a long day at school, not someone they’re planning to erase.
She set it on the floor near the chair and looked up at me with a tired smile. “You should stay hydrated.”
I really didn't know what to say, so I just stared at her blankly.
She had crow’s feet that deepened when she smiled and soft, worn hands that looked more familiar with baking cookies than handling anything dangerous. Her shoes had thick orthopedic soles—the kind designed for comfort over style, the type worn by someone who spent more time on their feet than on the run.
Nothing about her fit the situation.
She didn’t look like a threat. She didn’t even look like she belonged in the same universe as the people who’d dragged me here. And yet, here she was, calm and composed in the middle of all this madness.
None of it made sense. Not her. Not this place. Not any of it.
“Why are you being nice to me?” I finally asked, my voice low and wary.
She studied me for a moment. “You remind me of my daughter when she was your age.”
I frowned. “Your daughter?”
“She was only fifteen when it happened. We were at the beach, just a normal day, and the current was stronger than any of us realized. There was no lifeguard, no one watching closely enough. One moment, she was there, laughing, and the next… she was gone. We didn’t even have time to understand what was happening before it was too late.” The woman looked down at her hands, then slowly back up at me. “You look just like her.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I didn’t even know if it was true. All I knew was that her face, kind as it was, didn’t put me at ease. It unnerved me.
I hesitated, then motioned to the chair. “You want to sit?”
She chuckled, light and warm. “I’ve got old bones, but I’m not falling apart just yet.” She straightened up with more strength than I expected and smiled again. “I’m Colin’s mother.”
Every hair on my body stood up. “You’re...his mother?”
“I’m not the danger in this,” she tried to assure me quickly. “I love my son, but I’m not blind to what he does." Her eyes slid to the side, and her mouth tightened. "At least, not anymore. But my mind—” she tapped her temple lightly, “it keeps telling me you’re her. My daughter Lara. I know you’re not, but still…”
My chest tightened. I wasn’t sure if I felt sorry for her or terrified. To be honest, it was probably both. The tragedy in her voice sounded genuine, but grief didn’t equate to harmless.
I looked down at the plate of food, a flicker of unease crawling up my spine. It could be poisoned. It could be drugged. Maybe this was how it ended—not with a gun to my head or a dramatic standoff, but with a quiet, creeping death because I let an old woman with soft eyes and a sad story convince me to trust her.
“You don’t have to eat,” she said softly as if reading my mind. “But drink the water, please. He’s due in a meeting soon. I’ll…I’ll make sure everything is left with me.”
She turned without a word and shuffled out the door, closing it softly behind her. I waited three full seconds, listening to the fading sound of her footsteps, before moving toward the tray she’d left behind. I didn’t touch it. Didn’t even lean too close. I just stared at it—like the food might suddenly come to life and reveal what they were hiding.
And that’s when the door opened again—harder this time. Maddox stepped in this time, his face twisted with irritation.
“You’ve caused me huge problems, Gabriella,” he snapped. “I’ve got Wyatt Townsend’s old man and grandfather sniffing around now. They're asking questions I don’t need.”
My fingers curled into fists. “Good. Maybe if you weren’t a murderous son of a bitch, you wouldn’t have people digging into your business.”
He stepped forward fast, but I didn’t flinch.
“Oh, and by the way,” I added, “your secretary? The one you’ve been sleeping with behind your wife’s back? I know all about it. Too bad there’s no prenup in that fancy little marriage of yours.”
His eyes burned, lips curling, and then he shoved me. I stumbled backward, hard and fast, and slammed into the wall before I could catch myself. My head cracked against the concrete, and everything spun and went fuzzy and then everything faded to black.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Gabby
The world came back in flashes—disjointed and heavy, like wading through syrup.
I remembered the feeling of a hand on my arm—gentle, steady like it was trying to anchor me. A voice followed, low and soothing, though the words slipped through my mind like water through a sieve. A figure was hunched beside me, whispering something I couldn’t quite hold on to.