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PROLOGUE
The pulsating beat of the music did little to mute the disturbing thoughts that were floating through his mind as he watched her dancing with a few of her friends. Lights flashed around her, casting a glow around her slightly mussed hair as she moved with the music, letting the club fade as she existed in a world of her own. Typical. She was always dancing through life, like hers was the only one that mattered. She always had been selfish and absorbed in the pathetic life she’d constructed for herself while pretending she was nothing more than a victim to neglect.
Lake Harrington had perfected the art of playing the victim long ago, and the result was a sad excuse for a woman who lived on her looks and her daddy’s money as she flitted around the world following fake friends and what she thought were adventures, never staying past last call in any city or country that would demand she grow the fuck up. The egocentric bitch thought the sun rose and fell on her sorry excuse for a life. Well, now she’d understand what it meant to be the center of a real scandal. Nothing as trivial as the “wild night out” pictures captured in tabloids and walk of shame pictures that no one in Washington D.C. even raised an eyebrow at anymore.
A flash of light from an overhead strobe blinded him for a moment, breaking his fixed gaze on the woman who was now making her way off the crowded dance floor. From his position at the bar, he tracked her movement toward the roped off V.I.P. section of the club on the boardwalk of Barcelona. As she sat in the middle of a group of very interested men all dressed as if they came from money, he turned his attention away, nearly vibrating with disgust. It wouldn’t surprise him if she took them all back to her hotel room to fuck them. Lake was nothing but a pampered slut who needed all the male attention she could get. Some sick daddy issues that therapists would salivate at trying to study, no doubt.
As he focused on the rest of the patrons pressed against the bar, he couldn’t help but notice a woman near the end trying to catch his eye. Same dark hair as Lake, same height, same need to be noticed, but this woman was fixated on him. He sized her up and inclined his head with a flirtatious smirk. Not because he wanted this woman, but because she reminded him so much of the bitch he’d just turned away from, that he thought he might be able to feed his depraved appetite with a surrogate tonight. She gave him a returning smirk and turned on her too-high heels, swaying through the bodies crowding the room toward the door that led to an alley on the side of the building. Of course, he’d noted all the exits before he’d sat down to watch the trainwreck that was the former senator’s daughter.
He slammed his drink back and set the glass down, following her through the crowd until he stopped before the woman who was waiting for him, her back nearly pressing the bar on the door. Upon closer inspection, she didn’t have all that much in common with the object of his hatred other than her dark hair, short stature and similar curves. Her nose was larger, face rounder, and even in the darkness of the club he could tell her eyes didn’t hold that deep green that stood out against Lake’s dark lashes. Still, she would have to do, and he gave her a grin he knew women melted over as he leaned forward, hand stretching out to push the door open behind her as he herded her out the door and into the crisp night that was almost shocking against the heat of the body filled club they’d just vacated.
She spoke in Spanish, her voice almost melodic and he tilted his head slightly earning him a chuckle from the woman who raised a hand to run over the buttondown shirt covering his chest. “Let me guess,” she said in a tone he was sure she assumed was enticing. “American?” Her fingers danced slowly down his chest as she circled each button, her brown eyes never leaving his.
“Guilty,” he said with a low chuckle, pretending he was falling for her attempts at temptation. She thought he was interested in her sexually, which suited him just fine. He’d never see any woman who reminded him of the one he’d just left and think of anything remotely sexual. She disgusted him far too much for that. But letting her get closer fit his needs just fine right now, and he fought a cringe as she leaned in close and nipped at his neck, whispering her wants and intentions with him for the night. His hands gripped her hips in a way that could be read as lust as she continued to trail kisses along his neck. Just another slut like the one he’d left in the club, looking for a dirty fuck with strangers to try and fill whatever void she thought she had in her life. She deserved what was coming. The pain, the torture… the death. He was all too happy to deliver as he led her back to his rental and away from the busy streets where anyone would miss her. She would be nothing more than another young woman who met with a sad end after being too trusting of a stranger, and he would be able to get a taste of the urges he’d been fighting for too long when it came to Lake Harrington.
CHAPTER 1
LAKE
For all that I loved history and historic architecture, I could never bring myself to care about Washington D.C. A city of marble rising off the shores of the Potomac, history practically seeping from the walls, and I’d never had the desire to stay and explore. The white buildings blazed in the early afternoon sunlight as I kept my gaze fixed on the cell phone in my hand. Usually I had my nose plastered to the car window like a tourist, but not here in this land of political lies and deception. I couldn’t allow myself to be awed and inspired by the very city that had robbed me of a childhood. This was a place of nothing but disappointment for me, and I couldn’t pretend that it wasn’t all due to daddy issues.
Yeah, poor Lake Harrington, spoiled princess born into privilege, who couldn’t handle her senator father putting business before her after her mother died. I was pretty much the poster child for trust fund brats. But it wasn’t like I’d meant to lash out at my absent dad. Robert Harrington had been a great father when I was young. He’d always made time for me and my mom. Before the car accident. Before mom died.
With a sigh, I let my hand holding my phone drop to the seat as I pushed down the pity party trying to storm its way into my mind. I couldn’t put myself into that mindset every damn time I came to D.C; I’d end up on a cocktail of antidepressants and probably drinking myself into an early grave. Letting the walls, I’d spent years painstakingly erecting, slam back into place, I turned my attention to the driver taking me to my father’s office. The town car was the same, but this driver wasn’t the usual. Sure, I’d refused to learn their names (no attachments to Robert’s world, thank you) and I had been so infrequent in answering summons here that there was a possibility of new employees, but still. How had I not noticed a completely new driver? The driver of years past had always been one of two frail, aging men that never smiled or even spoke. One smelled faintly of pipe tobacco and the other had crazy ear hairs that had always been hard not to stare at the entire drive from the airport to Robert’s office.
This new driver looked decades younger, maybe late 30’s to early 40’s, if the back of his head was any indication. The thickness of his neck reminded me of a professional athlete, like a football or rugby player. Not to mention the rigid way he sat totally gave him away as former military. He looked more like a bodyguard or bouncer, instead of a driver, and I couldn’t help but start to wonder how he’d ended up with this job.
No, Lake, I told myself.You don’t wonder about anything in this world. It’s not your world and you know not to get close.
Having to constantly remind myself to stay disengaged while here was just one of the many reasons I ignored most of the formal emails sent to me by my father, demanding my presence. Usually it was due to some picture showing up in the society section or tabloid speculating on my club life, which was why I mostly ignored them. In fact they’d been marked as spam years ago, and I suspected my father had figured out my tricks to avoiding him. Last night I was summoned via a text message. One I’d ignored as well until a follow up message had mentioned it was an emergency.
I’d just gotten back from a month in Barcelona with Bailey and Monica, and honestly, time with them was exhausting. I didn’t want to take another trip from New York City to Washington D.C., especially when that trip involved an imminent ass ripping for whatever tawdry click bait I’d been used for that would ruin his public standing. I’d wanted to ignore it, shower and sleep for 12 hours, but he’d used that one word that he knew would make me come running. Emergency. As much as I tried to hate my father, I couldn’t turn away from the only family I had left in this world if it were truly an emergency. I’d tried calling and been sent to voicemail as usual, and for the smallest of moments, I’d hoped the emergency was his health. I tried to be a good person, but what father sent a text about meeting him in D.C. for an emergency when he couldn’t pick up the phone to explain? He was an asshole and somehow always turned me into one as well.
The building Robert worked in loomed in front of us and I took a deep breath, trying to shake off the cloud of irritation threatening to suffocate me. It morphed from irritation to trepidation when the driver turned into the underground parking garage, plunging the car into darkness that contrasted painfully with the bleached sunlight we’d been in only seconds before. Normally I was dropped off in the front of the building and picked up the same way; I didn’t use the parking garage entrance. Ever. Was this some sort of power play to make sure I made it into the building? I didn’t blame him for not trusting that I would bolt before making it to the front door. I’d done it before after all.
We stopped in front of the elevator, and there was another suited ex-military linebacker already moving toward my door. The instinct to lock the door was high since I rarely dealt with this secret service style welcome, but I held back as the man who had been waiting, opened the door and extended a hand outward toward the elevator as if I didn’t know the way. What the hell was this? Was he stepping up his game and having me escorted to his office so he could lord his superiority? Snatching my purse off the seat beside me, I tucked my cell phone into one of the interior pockets and slid across to the open door.
Wearing my defiance like armor, I walked at my own controlled pace to the elevator that was still sitting open for me as if no one else could possibly need it. The entire entrance felt like one of the times I’d been brought home by police only to have my father shake his head and silently turn back to the stairs to go back to bed. Defiance had been the only armor I’d had then as well; the only thing that could deflect that silent disappointment, not for the choices I’d made, but how they’d affect him and his career.
Here I was again, enduring silence, except this time it was from the man who’d opened my door. He’d followed behind me and into the elevator, not a single word from his lips as he pressed the button that would take us to the floor that held the office of Robert Harrington, former senator, elbow rubbing asshat to the political elite. Honestly I had no idea what he did post senate, but it was because I refused to care. Instead I took the silence to side-eye my elevator companion. Same military build as the driver and the blond high and tight did nothing to dissuade my opinion. When I noticed the slight bulge on his hip, giving away his status as armed, I narrowed my eyes as I finished my blatant inspection of the man. An inspection he’d ignored as he stared, stone faced, at the elevator door.
My father hadn’t used armed security since he’d been senator, making waves and pissing off the masses. The word emergency pulsed in my brain on repeat and I was just about to ask the muscled and armed man what was going on when the telltale ding and nauseating halt told me we were on my father’s floor.
As the doors opened, the massive man put out a halting hand to me before stepping out into the hall and inspecting it before finally speaking to me. “Right this way, Ms. Harrington.”
I noticed his hand out again. Not inviting, but a gesture meant to move me along like a child. Raising an eyebrow at him, I silently told him what he could do with that hand before striding past him and down the hall I knew so well and hated just as much. My heels were the only sound echoing around the hall until I opened the last door on the right and stepped onto the plush carpet that silenced my footfalls instantly.
Sitting at the tidy little desk in front of Robert’s office door was the only person I cared about in this hellhole of a city, and I couldn’t help the smile that broke out on my face. Many senators had young pretty women playing the role of work wife, but Ellen Downing had worked for Robert for as long as I could remember. The woman was in her 70’s with hair as white as pure snow and a beige dress that was nice yet understated, no doubt to help her blend into the background as needed.
“Lake!” Ellen exclaimed, jumping up from her seat and rounding the corner of her desk to hurry toward me. Unable to help myself, I picked up my pace and met her in the middle of the small waiting area, embracing her as tightly as she was me.
One hug had my eyes misting; Ellen’s love and compassion working as a salve to ease the burn of the entire trip. I used to pretend Ellen was my grandma, filling in for the grandparents I’d never known on either side. She’d been there to carry on the love and support of me that had died with my mother. She’d damn near raised me on her own after the car accident, and after Robert had checked out of any sort of fatherly responsibility. It was Ellen who’d picked my drunk teenage ass up from police stations, clubs and house parties. She’d always been there, never doing more than reminding me I was better than my actions. It had beenherdisappointment that had fueled change within me. While I enjoyed annoying and letting down my father, I couldn’t stomach doing that to Ellen who had only ever loved me and cared for me.
“You just get more and more beautiful every time I see you,” Ellen said, finally breaking away to place her wrinkled hands on either side of my face. “Not that I see you all that often!” There was a hint of scolding in the words that were nearly drowned by the affection.
“What can I say? Life’s been busy.” I gave a small shrug and smiled at the older woman. I wouldn’t go into detail about how I hated the city and being dragged back here only to be taken to task by a man who only cared about himself.
“So I’ve read,” Ellen joked with a wink as she stepped back to take me in, face full of pride in a way that had me wanting to twirl like a child again. She always had a way of doing this to me. “Your father’s waiting for you, love. Best not keep him waiting anymore. That man is near pulling his hair out these days.”
