Page 8 of Forbidden Pawn

She’s not even a child.

“How old are you?” I blurt out, driven by a sudden need to know.

She frowns at me. “Why are you asking?”

“Answer me.”

“My brothers haven’t told you?” She asks back.

“Just answer the fucking question,” I maintain.

She scoffs. “Nineteen. But I’m sure you already knew that.”

I didn’t know that. I know nothing about her, because I never cared to ask.

Nineteen. Legal.

I glance at my wrist to check the time. Dusk is approaching outside, and I know I won’t be able to get anything done today, not with her here. I might as well call it a night.

“We’re leaving,” I announce—and she jumps up from her chair the moment I rise from mine.

Despite the sassy attitude that emerges every time she opens her mouth, I can tell that she’s incredibly tense, possibly even scared of me. Her shoulders stiffen as I approach her to get my coat from the rack next to the door.

My office is in a high-rise building in the middle of the Seaport District, featuring sleek architecture with a glass facade, like many other buildings in the area. The busy environment provides the perfect cover for our high-volume transactions without drawing too much attention. It’s as they say: the best hiding place is in plain sight.

I don’t have a lot of staff. Every extra person just means extra risk, so I try to keep it to a close-knit circle of people I can trust. The office was empty when we arrived and it still is by the time we leave. No one saw Grace with me, but I know I can’t keep her a secret. There are meetings scheduled and places I will have to be in the upcoming weeks, and I won’t go as far as locking her up in my basement just to hide her away—unless I absolutely have to.

I notice her wandering eyes as we make our way through the building and down to the underground parking area. Her gaze is flitting from left to right, obviously trying to take inher surroundings without me noticing. It raises my suspicions toward her once again.

“Don’t even think about causing any trouble,” I say as we get into my car. “You have nothing to be afraid of, as long as you don’t cause any trouble.”

“Who says I’m interested in causing any trouble?”

“That attitude of yours,” I say. “Don’t talk to me like a little brat if you don’t want any trouble.”

I can sense another bratty remark dancing on the tip of her tongue, but she keeps it to herself this time.

“Yes, sir,” she says instead. “Better?”

I hate the way she’s side-eying me with that triumphant smirk just as much as the fire that ignites inside my core when she calls me that.

Don’t call me sir, little girl. You’re giving me terrible ideas.

We don’t talk for the rest of the ride, and she keeps her eyes fixated on the passing city lights as we transition to the less congested outskirts of Boston. Soon, we’re no longer surrounded by the downtown hustle and bustle but by single-family homes, trees and more meadows than asphalt.

My current home is a sprawling New England estate nestled among trees. I notice Grace tensing up anew as we reach the driveway of my house. She doesn’t move when I park the car right in front of the house and unfasten my seatbelt. And she doesn’t move when I get out of the car, but waits until I have walked all the way around to open the door for her.

“I’m not your chauffeur,” I tell her, as she climbs out of the car, carrying her bag with her.

“I wasn’t sure if I’m allowed to go on my own,” she retorts.

She looks at me with a blank expression, and I roll my eyes at her.

“Come,” I say.

And before I know it, my hand lands at the small of her back, guiding her toward the house. She jerks at my touch, but doesn’t sway away from it, seemingly just as stunned as I am myself. I don’t know why I’m touching her like this, but I can’t shake the weird wish of having her here for a different reason. Maybe after a few drinks at a downtown bar, slightly tipsy as we flirt our way into the bedroom, where I pin her down on the mattress and have my way with her…

I shake off the thought and open the door for her. The interior of my house matches the exterior’s elegance, with its hardwood floors, high ceilings, and a grand staircase leading to the upper floor. Grace sucks in a sharp breath of air as she takes in the foyer's grandeur, and I can’t help but feel pride at her reaction.

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