AllFreeNovel
Share Us
GENEVIEVE
When the leader, Archer, pulls out his phone, I tense, knowing he probably found information I’d rather stay buried. When I made my first fortune, I paid someone to hide all the information that would make me appear less than squeaky clean. Though I don’t keep where I come from a secret, the exact trouble I’d gotten up to in my youth is something I plan to take to my grave. Something tells me this man could have found exactly what I keep buried, though I don’t know how I know that.
“Genevieve Dalton,” he reads from whatever he has on his phone. “Twenty-nine. Engaged to Chaz Dandridge III. Self-made millionaire by franchising a series of cafés targeted to women. Up and coming, growing exponentially every year.”
“That’s all public knowledge.”
His smile widens. “Born to Petunia Dalton. There’s no father listed, which speaks loudly all on its own. Your mother died before you opened your first shop, and she’s buried in a tiny London cemetery.”
Wrong, I think. The moment I made enough money, I had Mum moved from the decaying, poor cemetery to a proper one with her own gravestone, rather than a plaque I had to scrape money together for—money I didn’t have. Still, I wouldn’t have ever allowed Mum to be in an unmarked grave, and the first time I was able to, I made sure she got the gravestone she deserved. I don’t correct Archer though. Let him think he knows everything.
“Currently worth eighty-nine million pounds and growing,” he continues, as if he has all the answers. “You came from nothing, and when I searched, I couldn’t find any sort of degree to your name, not even any A levels.” His eyes meet mine. “Kept that a nice secret, didn’t you?”
I don’t respond. It would be pointless to. He’s already figured out that I didn’t go to sixth form or college, never mind university. Answering would only add to the list.
The attractive one sits up from lounging on the sofa and wiggles his brows at me, a move that almost brings a tiny smile to my lips. I just barely hold it back.
“You’ve run into some trouble, but that was harder to dig up.” Archer raises his brow. “The person you paid to sweep things under the rug is good.”
“That’s why I hired him,” I reply, staring at him without flinching.
The one who I nailed in the chest glares at me from his spot against the wall, but I ignore the asshole. I hope his head smarts as badly as his chest. The other one looks at me differently, as if he’s insanely curious about where I come from.
“That’s it?” I query, returning my attention to Archer. “Did you find everything you need?”
Archer snorts. “Sure…Birdie.”
My shoulders tense. “Don’t call me that.”
“That’s your real name, isn’t it?” he goads. “Birdie Dalton, officially changed before you made your first million. It’s public record, but thanks to your money, it was easily hidden away.” He tilts his head. “Why change it?”
“That’s none of your business,” I hiss. No one needs to know that name. The last person who called me by my name lies beneath an intricate headstone with a beautiful angel on top. I stopped being Birdie Dalton the moment she died.
Tension hangs heavily in the air for a moment before Mr Attractive sighs dramatically. “If you’re good, why don’t you come sit next to me?” he says, patting the sofa. “I’m Eric, by the way.”
“Stop giving her more information,” the big one snarls.
Eric rolls his eyes. “She already knows enough. Besides, I’d prefer her to know my name.” He winks at me. “Just in case you want to scream it later.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at him, but I still take a step forward.
“If you try anything, we’ll lock you back in the room,” Archer warns, tucking his phone away.
I pad across the floor to the sofa and take a seat beside Eric, leaving enough room between us so we don’t touch, but he takes it upon himself to move closer the moment I’m sitting and wrap an arm around my shoulders. I almost push him away until I feel his heat. I lean into the warmth, realising just how cold I am. My feet feel like pins and needles. I don’t know how I’m not shivering.
My eyes trail over to the grungy window, which is just clean enough for me to see the pastures outside. There’s nothing in view, as if we’re in the absolute middle of nowhere. I can figure out what I’m going to do later. For now, I won’t make it anywhere in this English chill.
“You’ve met Archer,” Eric says, pointing to the leader, who watches me closely. “The American is Booker. The grumpy pants is—”
“Shut your fucking mouth!” the big one snarls. “I’m not telling her my name.”
“Well, then,” Eric scoffs, “you can just call him Grumpy Pants.”
This time, I do smile. “Grumpy Pants it is,” I agree, mostly because it clearly annoys him. My smile fades swiftly, however, as the news begins to replay Chaz’s press conference.
My eyes fall on the TV, seeing his beautiful eyes looking back at me. As he begs for my safe return and promises a reward, I can feel the insincerity in the words, as if they are all an act he’s practiced. It’s at that moment I realise precisely how big of a fool I’ve been. I looked at Chaz as a way to complete my transformation and thought he was charming, but I failed to realise the most charming ones are the snakes. My younger years should have taught me that better than anything. Just because someone wears designer clothing and attends galas, it doesn’t change anything. It just makes it easier to hide. I’d fallen for it, and in the end, Chaz cheated on me. He probably has been the entire time. I’d only just accidentally caught him, not that he knows that.
When Chaz repeats the reward amount, which is chump change compared to what the Dandridge family is supposed to be worth, I turn my gaze to Archer.
