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Annabeth
I’m vibrating with the need to get away from him right now. On the outside I might appear rational and collected, but on the inside a hurricane of emotion ravages me.
Cohen is no better than my father scheming to get ahead and get everything he wants. Cohen takes without asking, just like my father.
No matter what excuses he believes, he’s exactly like everyone else.
“You need to let me go,” I demand. “Immediately.”
Cohen’s eyes flit back and forth over my face. Then he sighs and steps back, hands up.
He’s a good actor. I almost believe the regretful expression he plays up.
“I’m sorry,” he repeats.
Ignoring him, I sidestep and walk away with my head held high. I don’t care that I probably look like a hot mess. It doesn’t even matter that I barely feel a shred of the bravado I broadcast as I make my escape.
Cohen follows me. His footsteps echo as I weave through quiet halls the further we get from the main ballroom.
As I turn another corner, I glance back at him. He does nothing. He keeps his distance, trailing at a sedate pace with his hands in his pockets.
“Fuck off,” I snap as I quicken my gait.
He keeps even with me with ease, his long legs outmatching my shorter ones. Toddling along in expensive heels doesn’t help, either. These things were designed to look good and that’s it. They suck for footwear as I try to make my getaway.
Cohen scoffs at my demand. “Don’t mind me. You’ll probably only believe me if I say I just want to make sure my investment doesn’t damage herself.”
“Ugh!”
I hate him all over again. For being such a dick. For lying to me. For worming his way beneath my skin.
* * *
The cold air hits me when I make it outside the maze of a mansion. I have no idea where we are—still in New York? Jersey?—but it feels good against my skin. It clears my head, even as I shiver from the chill.
Wrapping my arms around myself, I cross the gravel drive to the valet stand. I arrived with Dad and Charity in a limo, but I can’t wait around for our driver. The kid working the valet booth isn’t around, but there’s a set of keys left out.
A muffled squeal of victory escapes me. I swipe them and click the button, praying for a nearby car.
Several feet down the drive there’s a manicured lawn doubling as a parking lot for those that brought their toys out for the evening. A sleek black Lexus LC beeps twice, the headlights flashing.
I send my thanks to whatever deity took pity on me.
What’s a little grand theft auto amongst dirty billionaires and mobsters?
I don’t check behind me for Cohen. I think I lost him between the old service kitchen and a study. That, or he hung back on purpose when I found the solarium leading outside. Maybe he finally got it through his thick skull that I need to get far away from him.
The gravel is hell to walk on in stilettos, but I make it to the car and slide into the driver’s seat.
“God, does a giant drive this thing?” I grumble.
It feels like I’ve climbed into the trunk. I fumble around and find the seat adjustment and get the Lexus started.
Seat warmers in the buttery leather start working right away and I hum, leaning into the embrace of the seat. Now that I have a free minute, I find my hidden zipper and close it so I’m five percent less of a hot mess express.
Once I get out of here, I’ll check the registration to get the owner’s car back to them. For now, the only thing on my mind is a hasty getaway.
I pull out onto the gravel drive and pause, holding my foot down on the brake. I wasn’t kidding when I said I have no idea where I am right now. This estate is out in the middle of nowhere. It’s pitch black out and the estate is surrounded by nothing but trees and back roads. I wasn’t paying much attention on the way in, too busy untying the knots of dread in my stomach on the way to my engagement party.
