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I nodded, not trusting the words on the tip of my tongue—the ones that screamed I couldn’t go through with it—but Ashley’s beautiful face flickered through my mind’s eye. I sucked in a breath, willing my stomach to stop rolling. “Thank you. I couldn’t do this without you.”
“After you talk to them, let’s head to the lake. If you’re hungry then, we can grab some food.”
“I’m not sure I’ll want to eat, but a chocolate shake might sound good.” I attempted a smile, but it wasn’t heartfelt. What I did know was that it would be hard as hell to tell my parents that I was a sex slave to a man they loved and thought of as their son.
“Are you ready?” Zayne asked, stroking my cheek with the pad of his thumb.
“No, but I need to get it over with.” I tipped my chin up and squared my shoulders, steeling my resolve. As badly as I wanted to take Zayne’s hand, I wouldn’t. My family couldn’t know about us yet.
Zayne and I walked toward my childhood mansion, and my stomach dropped to my toes. Memories seized my brain as I recalled swinging on the enormous columns outside and my parents scolding me. The off-white brick home was accentuated with rows of trimmed hedges that lined the circular drive and entrance.
I reached for the doorbell, my hand visibly trembling as I pressed it.
The mahogany front door opened almost immediately.
“Giselle,” Martha, my parent’s housekeeper, said.
“Hi, how are you?” I wondered if she could see my legs shaking. Rethinking my decision, I probably should have worn slacks. Maybe it would have hidden my nerves better than khaki shorts.
I walked into the foyer and spotted the ladder near the crystal chandelier. My gaze traveled to the formal living area to the right, then the magnificent wooden banister that Donovan and I used to slide down when we were in grade school. Those were the good days, before he changed and started hurting me.
Martha’s brown eyes widened as Zayne followed me. Since it was the first time that Zayne and I had been around another female outside of his circle, I hadn’t realized what kind of effect he had on women. A jolt of jealousy spread through me, then I chided myself. There was nothing to be worried about.
“Martha, this is my bodyguard, Zayne. Zayne, this is Martha.” I resisted wiping the imaginary drool from the corner of her mouth.
“Ma’am,” Zayne said, his deep voice sending goosebumps over my body.
I offered Martha a tight-lipped smile. “My parents are expecting us.”
“Giselle?” My mother’s excited tone reached me before I saw her. She entered the foyer from the living area, her heels clicking against the white marble floors. Mother was the picture of elegance with her dark hair piled in a neat bun on the top of her head, a navy-blue silk blouse, and black slacks. Her skin was flawless, with no wrinkle in sight for her fifty-two years.
Even though Mother and Father lived twenty minutes away, we wouldn’t visit each other for months at a time, and Donovan always accompanied me. This was the first time I’d visited without him for longer than I could remember.
“Mother.” I grinned.
“So good to see you, darling.” Mother was a bit shorter than I was, but we were eye to eye with her shoes on. She wrapped me in a warm hug, and I wanted to stay in her arms like when I was a little girl.
“Good to see you, too.” I turned to Zayne, who had removed his sunglasses, his gaze assessing the foyer. “This is Zayne, my bodyguard.”
“Nice to meet you.” Zayne extended his hand, and Mother shook it. She had much more experience hiding her feelings and never even raised a brow at him.
“You as well. Why don’t we all make our way to the sitting room? Your father is waiting for us.”
I wasn’t sure how I managed to walk through the hall that separated the house sections, but I followed her past the kitchen, bathroom, and two guest bedrooms.
The lingering scent of my father’s Cuban cigar wrapped around me, surrounding me with the aroma I’d grown to love over the years. He had to special order them, so it wasn’t as if the sweet and clover smell of that type was prevalent.
We entered the sitting area, and Zayne remained near the door as I walked over to Father. Wisps of grey had feathered through his dark hair, and his tan face had a few new wrinkles, but other than that, Father was in excellent shape for nearing sixty. He played a lot of tennis and golf, and it showed with his rounded biceps and shoulders. Standing near his desk, he appeared to be rifling through a file folder before he saw us. He smoothed his white dress shirt and rolled up the sleeves, revealing his muscular forearms.
“Giselle.” He spread his arms wide, then pulled me in for a big hug.
“Hi, Father,” I whispered against his ear. “I’ve missed you.”
“You, too, honey.”
I released him and nodded toward Zayne, who had remained near the entrance. His shoulders were rigid, his legs were slightly parted, and his hands were folded in front of him. I desperately wanted to kiss him, but it would have to wait until I’d finished speaking to my parents.
“Is Ashley home, or is she at school?” I settled into the black leather high-back chair next to Mother while Father sat on the edge of his desk. Eventually, he would sit down, but for whatever reason, he liked to start the conversation without any furniture between us. When I’d asked him about it, he said it was to establish a connection with who he was speaking to. He referred to it as Business Etiquette 101. Apparently, even when it was a casual meetup, the habit stuck with him.
