Chapter 7

The sun was high over the Kingston estate, but I was currently in my room avoiding human interactions at all costs. It felt cowardly, like a rabbit hiding in its burrow while the wolf circled outside, but it was the only way to avoid running into Eric. The Blue Suite, which was supposed to be a sanctuary, now felt like a prison cell made of silk and gold leaf.

My mind was still reeling from what had happened last night in the library. Every time I closed my eyes, I could still feel the heat of Eric’s body pressing me against that cold reading table, his breath hitching against my neck. The thought of what could have happened if Alexander Hawthorne hadn’t interrupted us was a loop playing in my mind, terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

Would we have had sex there and then? I knew the answer, and it made my skin flush with a heat that had nothing to do with the morning sun. Eric wouldn't have wasted a moment to claim me right there among the bookshelves. He had always been a man who took what he wanted, and last night, he wanted me with a ferocity that hadn't faded over five years. My stomach twisted as I realized that if I hadn't bolted the second Hawthorne opened that door, Eric likely would have waited for him to leave and then continued exactly where he left off.

The worst part wasn't that I was embarrassed about almost sleeping with him. It was the crushing realization of how weak I still was. After five years of building a life, of raising a son, of telling myself I was over him—one touch from Eric Kingston and I was ready to let it all happen. I would have let him take me, and I would have been super glad for the touch.

Because of this internal chaos, I had already declined Chloe's earlier request to go out for a pre-wedding spa day. I had cited a light stomachache, keeping my voice faint over the intercom. It was a pathetic lie, but it was better than telling her the truth: “Hey Chloe, I can’t go out with you today. I almost fucked your uncle on your library table last night and I’m too embarrassed to look anyone in the eye.”

Ring-Ring-Ring.

The sharp sound of my cellphone cut through the quiet room, making me jump. Who could be calling me? I scrambled for the device on the nightstand, hoping it wasn't Chloe calling to check on my "stomachache." Looking at the caller ID, my heart skipped a beat for a different reason. It was Sarah.

“What's up, Sarah?” I said, answering immediately. My voice was tight. “Is everything alright? Is Fin okay?”

“Ma'am,” Sarah’s voice came through, and it was panicky. The background noise sounded like a busy street, but her tone made my blood run cold.

“Sarah, what's going on? Talk to me,” I asked, my voice etched with a sudden, sharp worry.

“Ma'am... I think we are being followed,” she whispered urgently.

My heart didn't just race; it felt like it stopped entirely. “Wait! What? What do you mean you’re being followed? Are you sure?”

“We went to buy some breakfast across the street from the hotel,” she said, her voice shaking. “There’s a black SUV that’s been trailing us for three blocks. Every time I turn, they turn. A couple of men in suits... they aren't even trying to hide it anymore.”

Fear, cold and jagged, tore through my body. My mind went to a thousand dark places. Was it Eleanor? Was it a rival of the Kingstons? Or was it Eric’s security team, finally tracking down the secret I’d been hiding? Nothing would stop me from protecting my son. Not these walls, and certainly not the man who owned them.

“Sarah, get to the nearest crowded place. Go into a mall or a large hotel and stay in the lobby. Do not go back to the hotel yet. I’m coming to you,” I commanded, already kicking off my slippers and grabbing my sneakers.

I moved with a frantic energy, throwing on simple clothing—a pair of jeans and a hoodie that allowed me to move fast. I grabbed my bag and whatever change I had left on me for a cab. My hands were shaking so hard I could barely zip my purse.

I bolted out of the suite and down the back staircase, avoiding the main hall. I reached the tall, wrought-iron gates of the estate, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. But as I reached for the pedestrian gate, two large men stepped into my path.

*******

“What do you mean I can’t leave?” I shouted at the guards. I had been standing outside for the past couple of minutes, trying to reason with them, but they stood like stone pillars.

“Sorry, ma'am. Mr. Kingston gave us strict instructions not to let you leave the premises without his express permission,” one of the guards answered, his voice devoid of emotion.

I felt like I was going to explode. Arrogance! The sheer, unadulterated gall of this man! “I am not a prisoner! My child’s life is in danger! Let me out of these gates right now!”

They didn't budge. I realized then that I wasn't going to get past them with words. I turned back toward the main house, my eyes burning with tears of rage. I was going to find Eric. Who did he think he was? Thinking he could keep me here as a hostage while my son was being hunted in the city?

If he wanted a confrontation, he was about to get one he would never forget.