The Guest By Emma Cline นิยาย & เรื่องราว

Everything was back to normal. Emma wandered out of the kitchen, and I could hear the stairs creak as she made her way up to the guest room she used as an office when she stayed out here. I turned back to the computer screen, the blank page still mocking me. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and then tried to dive into my work and forget the way Dean's eyes crinkled when he smiled.

When they reached the restaurant elegant and quiet, reserved for the entire private room at the back Mark parked in the lot behind it. Emma stepped out first. The dress hugged her breasts, the slit revealing the long line of her leg with every step. She could already feel the remote buzzing faintly through the fabric of her purse, Jax’s finger somewhere across the city pressing the button that would make her clit pulse at the next setting.

I said, grabbing her duffel. The guest room was two doors down from mine. It was really big. Floor-to-ceiling windows and a bed that could fit four people. “This is really big,” Emma said, spinning slow. “I know, right?” I laughed, but it sounded hollow. “Daniel really went all out with this place.” We stood there for a second. “Well get some rest, and be out in time for dinner,” I said smiling at her. “You’re safe here, Em.” She nodded. “I know.”

I said, leading her to an adjacent room, "is where you'll be staying." I opened the door to reveal a spacious, cozy guest room. It was elegantly furnished, with a comfortable bed, plush seating, and a large window that bathed the room in warm light. Emma stepped in, looking around with an approving nod. "This is really nice, Liam. I mean, it's no billionaire's master suite, but I think I can manage," she joked, her tone light but laced with an undercurrent of awkwardness. "Yeah, it's not too shabby," I replied with a laugh. "I hope you find it comfortable."

“Yes, ma’am. He’s in his study with a guest.” “A guest?” I raised my brows in surprise as Alex never brought guests home. I glanced around the courtyard for the car of the guest but couldn’t see any unfamiliar vehicles. “Mr. Sterling and his guest came together from the office,” Clara said as if reading my mind. I made my way through the front door, my pinpoint heels clicking as I scurried towards Alex’s study, grabbing the knob when I heard muffled voices. “Oh, Alex!” A woman moaned from the other side of the door. “Please don’t stop. Fuck me harder, Alex.”

Despite being draped in the most expensive diamonds, that old bitch still found a way to make her feel inferior. "Are you sure?" Max asked, taking her elbow and turning her to face him. The worry in his gaze eased her nerves. "You don't have to go back there. I can ask everyone to leave" "It would be rude for the host to leave before talking to the guests" Besides, she hadn't seen Lisandra yet. Emilia was in a sour mood and humiliating that psychopath would make her feel so much better. "Come on, let's not keep your guests waiting"

They walked further into the building to the space that was specially created for holding outsiders or rogues. Waiting at the front of the questioning room was Emma’s third-in-command, her Gamma who went by the name Chloe Riggs. She was a tall lady with shoulder length auburn hair, hazel eyes with gold flecks and a devotional spirit to work. She was Emma’s other best friend. But in work like they were in now, she was the Gamma. “How’s our hostage holding up?” Emma asked wearing the pair of gloves that Lincoln handed her in case things got ugly with their prisoner.

Right as I get to the table, the door bangs open, and everyone freezes as our heads collectively turn to see who is coming in. My breath hitches as I take note of the dark green eyes staring back at me. I will never forget the face of the man standing before me. “Emilia,” Alpha Jackson snaps, “what the fuck are you waiting for? Seat our guests.” I take a deep breath and remind myself I am going to be okay. I can feel the familiar tell-tale sign of tears as images from that night filter through my head against my will. “Come with me,” I tell the guests as I stop in front of them, careful not to make eye contact with any of them. I keep the anger and pain out of my voice. I briskly turn back o

But the little boy wasn’t so little anymore. Jeremy gives me a lopsided grin as he lets go of me to pick up the fallen steel stuff. I am stupid enough to blush, but I quickly shake the red off, internally slapping myself into remembrance that all the guests had almost arrived and were settled in the humongous guesthouse. Edwin Clifford, the guest of “honour” would be here in the evening. I take a deep breath, a warm satisfaction alighting me for I knew that it would be Edwin Clifford’s dead body leaving this mansion.

I made my way to the smaller guest house at the edge of the fence. When I reached the door, I knocked twice. “Emma?” I called out. No response. Listening closely, I opened the door and stepped into the dimly lit room. It was sparse, as most guest quarters were. “Girl?" I called out, getting pissed. Was she hiding? Did she leave the quarters without my permission? Cautiously, I drew my dagger and stepped into the washroom and the sight froze me in place. Emma was there in a makeshift basin too small for her. The guest quarters had no tub, and it was clear she’d tried to improvise.