~3

Quinn

“That's it?”

I heaved a sigh and nodded dejectedly, my gaze straying past the glistening glass window for the umpteenth time.

“He really turned you so on for him and asked you to leave right in the middle?”

I turned to look at my best friend and colleague, my face twisted into a painstaking frown. “But we didn't even get to the middle of it. It was only just starting to get really good when he got a call, and suddenly, everything changed.”

Pain and humiliation flooded into my chest afresh as the memory returned. Embarrassed, I'd hurriedly thrown my clothes on and left. And the rest of the day back at the trailer had been nothing but bleak as I lay in bed, thinking about the man that made me feel more things than any other men put together had made me feel in my twenty-five years on this bloody earth.

I wanted to lie around thinking of his perfect face and body, and why he'd suddenly sent me away. But I had a job to do. I'd thought about missing just a day of work to go find him again tonight, probably call in sick…

But my cleaning job in one of the biggest houses in Chicago paid too much to risk it.

Samira tsked as she meticulously wiped a porcelain jar. “Men like that deserve to be hanged.”

“I know, right?” But the last thing I wanted was for him to be hanged. Instead, I wished I'd somehow gotten his number so I could give him a call later and we could pick up from where we left off.

“How did you meet him, again?”

My fingers tightened around the edge of the glass table I’d been wiping down. “It was by chance, I guess.” I bit my lower lip to stomp down the rage that surged up my chest. “I caught my boyfriend in bed with another bitch.”

Samira carefully set down the porcelain and walked around to face me. “Zane? What the hell? Why are you just telling me this now?”

I laughed, shaking my head. “I can't believe it myself too. Zane and Isabel. I mean I knew they were both promiscuous but—”

“Isabel? Your mom?!” She shrieked, her eyes almost popping from their sockets.

I winced, my lips stretching in a small smile. “That's right. I caught them together this morning.”

“Those ungrateful assholes!”

“Sam! Keep your voice down, please. We're at work.”

“I don't care, I'm just so furious right now. How could they do that to you? You're literally saving and tolerating their asses!”

“Yeah well,” I shrugged, “I wish it were all that happened.”

But I wouldn't have met my sentinel.

“What else did they do? I'll go right over and kick their asses once we're done here.”

I chuckled and leaned over to ruffle her short red hair. “Calm your horses, my fiery little goddess. Anyway,” I pressed my lips together, “I stormed out of the trailer to get some air, and some idiot jumped me.”

“My God..” she sank to the floor next to me and took my hand in hers, “is that how you came to bruise your lip?”

“Yeah,” I cleared my throat and blinked hard, my eyes too damn dry. I looked deep into her vivid brown eyes. “The hot stranger saved me.”

She sighed, leaning forward until our foreheads touched. “Now I see why you fell for him.”

“Really, he's drop-dead gorgeous, Sam. I'm not a sucker for tattoos but they somehow look so hot on him I want to lick the ink right off his skin.”

She smiled, although the humor never reached her eyes. “Anyway, I'm so sorry for what happened to you this morning. They don't deserve you. Zane, Isabel. I don't know why you keep putting up with them.”

My eyes stung painfully and I blinked hard to keep them dry. “I can't help it.”

“I've told you. We could always run to freedom. You, me and Ethan. I adore your little brother so I wouldn't mind it if he tagged along.”

I narrowed my eyes, noting the faint hint of mischief in hers. “Adoration, huh?”

“Don't worry. Ethan's still too little. I'm not gonna seduce a high schooler.”

“We both know you're capable of much worse.”

She laughed as she got to her feet and picked up the vase. “I can't help it sometimes, I admit.”

A tall willowy woman walked into the living room and we instantly snapped to attention. Our chatters reduced to a noiseless hush as she picked up a remote and turned the TV on.

“I heard she's the mistress,” Sam whispered to me as I wiped down a glass window and she still wiped the same vase from minutes ago. “Mr. Baron got her this penthouse as a gift on her last birthday.”

“And where do you get your little stories, Sam?”

She smirked, turning to glance at the woman. “I've got sharp ears, you know. I've heard the other staff talking.”

“And how do you know they're not just some baseless rumors?”

“Because I've heard the mistress and Mr. Baron fighting about divorcing his actual wife and whatnot, right after banging.”

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. “Christ, Sam. You're insufferable.”

The volume of the TV soon drained out our voices, and I was forced to move away to wipe down the rest of the window.

~ Breaking news. Forensic accountant and heir apparent to Clair&Partners, Lilith Montclair, had reportedly just been in a ghastly accident, after a meeting with her betrothed, Luciano Draven…

“Oh my goodness, Lilith Montclair?” I couldn't understand why Samira looked so sober all of a sudden.

“What? You know her?”

She rolled her eyes and flicked me a pained glance. “Get a life, Quinn. It doesn't cost a dime to get a social media account and stay updated.”

“I'm too busy to be on social media.” I moved close and pried the vase from her fingers.

“Then watch the fucking news! Lilith Montclair is the richest and most beautiful woman in Chicago, engaged to the hottest and deadliest man in the world. How can you not know this?”

I scoffed. “Is she prettier than me?”

The mistress’ voice rose sharply. “Are you going to stand there chirping in my ears or go do your jobs?”

“Sorry, ma'am!”

We'd started to hurry off when the pictures displayed on the TV screen caught my attention.

I stopped dead in my tracks, instantly recognizing the man with tattooed arms and a mean smile.

~ …eye witnesses reported a heated argument had ensued between Lilith and her betrothed, only minutes before the accident…

A loud crash punctuated the news, and I jolted. I looked down to see the expensive vase in tiny shards around my feet, blood seeping from somewhere beneath my feet.

“Quinn!" Samira hurried forward. "Are you okay?”

“It's him,” I whispered, my insides racing with excitement and confusion as I dragged my eyes to the screen. “That's him.”

“What are you talking about?”

The telephone rang before I could respond, and the willowy mistress pulled her glare from my face and crossed the room.

“Clean this mess up before Baron gets here,” she spat as she picked up the receiver and listened for a second or two. Then she turned to us.

“There’s a Parker on the line. Isabel Parker.”

I shuffled forward, wondering why my mother was calling my workplace. She'd never done it.

I curtsied politely in apology as I took the phone from the willowy mistress and placed it against my ear.

“Yes?”

The woman on the line was sniffling repeatedly, stuttering as she tried to speak.

The great Isabel Parker only stuttered when trouble was at hand.

“Mom, what's going on?”