Total pages in book: 193
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 184001 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 920(@200wpm)___ 736(@250wpm)___ 613(@300wpm)
Khalil and Seth, who are sitting on top of the counter together, staring at something on Seth’s phone while I eat, look up. Thor is sitting next to me with his fingers linked on his abs and his head tipped back as he naps sitting up. His blue eyes pop open, and he regards me with a steady patience.
“What do you mean?”
“I know how to deal with my uncle without breaking a single law.”
“How’s that?”
“My uncle has been misappropriating the funds I entrusted him with, and he’s likely been doing it for years, but on a much larger scale since learning how hard I am to kill. If we can find the proof, we can hand it over to the Feds and ruin him for good. He’ll be facing prison time, and no judge on earth will grant him a conservatorship after that.”
“How do you plan to get the proof?” Khalil questions. “I doubt he just leaves the evidence of his misdeeds lying around.”
I hold up a finger. “Actually, he would. My uncle is greedy and arrogant. He knows that I know he’s been stealing from me, but his ego will never allow him to believe that I’m smart enough to follow the money trail. And he’s right. I wouldn’t know where to begin to find the proof. But I’m also disgustingly rich, which means I have a lot of resources at my disposal. I can end him with a phone call, and I wouldn’t have to lift a finger beyond that.”
“But all that does is put him in prison. I thought you wanted him dead,” Thorin says with a narrowed gaze.
“I do. And he will be. You just have to trust that I know my uncle better than anyone.” I don’t say more than that though because if my mountain me knew just how badly my uncle will react to being bested by his “dumb little niece” they’d never take the risk of me getting hurt.
So I make the call first thing in the morning, and I set the wheels in motion.
A few days later, the news of my uncle’s petition gets out, and the curiosity and enchantment people once had for my mountain men turn into half-baked theories and suspicion. The paparazzi have been even more relentless than usual.
“Aurelia! Aurelia! Can you comment on where you were last year?”
“Aurelia! What is the relationship between you and your bodyguards?”
“Aurelia! Blink if you need us to call the police!”
One even manages to sneak into the apartment building and catches me coming from the gym after yoga. Thorin snatched his camera, and I barely managed to stop him from using it to bash his face in. Instead, he broke it and then told the man to bill him.
Meanwhile, my uncle is living it up in Vegas, no doubt celebrating his impending win and control over me once more. It’s been a stressful few days, and when my blood pressure spikes, Khalil has the bright idea for us to get away. There aren’t many places I can go where I can hide, but the guys know of one that would do everyone some good.
They decide to take me home.
Home—where Khalil can finally see his parents again, and I can hide somewhere for a few days of peace. A town that almost sounds too good to be true.
It’s how we end up in Six Forks.
The town of Six Forks is tucked within the desert landscape of Nevada. I’m instantly enchanted with it when I slide out of the rental and onto the driveway of the one-story bungalow. The couple standing together on the porch give me pause though, and I glance up at Khalil to see him just as uncertain, so I shove down my own anxiety at meeting his parents and I take his hand. Khalil lets me guide him toward the house and up the wide front steps.
I feel his parents’ curious gazes on me, but when I try to step back out of view and join Thorin and Seth at the bottom of the steps, Khalil’s hand tightens around mine and I remember my promise to be right there with him.
So I stay, and we face off against his parents together.
His mom, who resembles Khalil so much, even down to the coloring, is the first of us to move or speak. I feel Khalil tense up beside me as she comes to stand in front of him, her head only reaching his shoulder as she lifts a hand up toward his face and rests her palm on his cheek.
“Hey, Ma.”
His mother’s eyes are pained but warm as she stares up at her son, taking in everything that wasn’t there the last time she saw him. “Did you get it done, son? Whatever it was you needed to do?”
“Yes,” Khalil answers on a broken whisper. “It’s done. It’s over.”