Page 1 of Arrogant and Merciless

aylor

PROLOGUE

Past

I’ve always wonderedwhat it would feel like to fly.

What does a bird experience when it spreads its wings and feels the wind rushing across its body?

Freedom, probably.

Yes, that must be it.

But in order to know what it’s like to be free, it has to risk that first flight.

There’s the fear of falling, of dying, of the unknown.

There’s also the possibility of a reward—of becoming unreachable.

Doubts remain if you don’t take the risk.

It’s a terrifying decision for a human, but for a bird, it’s destiny.

In my case, there's no choice.

Either I fly or I die, because I refuse to go back there.

I have no wings. The fall is certain, but I’ll never surrender without a fight.

So, I close my eyes, I pray, and I jump.

Taylor

CHAPTER ONE

Past

Two months before the events of the Prologue

NEW YORK

Masking displeasure is a gift.

If there’s anything I excel at more than anyone, it’s hiding what I feel. I can put on a poker face in the most difficult situations, and I doubt even an FBI profiler could guess what I’m thinking.

So, when I enter my employer’s suite and see that, even though it’s nearly noon, the heavy velvet drapes are still drawn, I plaster on a toothpaste-commercial smile, when in reality, I’d love to have a little chat with her housekeeper.

It’s none of your business, Taylor,a voice warns.

Yes, I know I’m nothing more than a companion hired for a temporary job, but still, I hate with every drop of my blood the way they treat the woman I work for—like a piece of secondhand furniture that’s no longer useful.

As far as I know, Mrs. Marshall’s son covers all the elderly woman’s expenses, although if the rumors are true, she has her own fortune.

There’s also a grandson, apparently, but in the five days I’ve been filling in for my neighbor, he still hasn’t shown up.

“Good morning, my dear. I don’t know about you, but this beautiful sunshine has really lifted my spirits,” I say, opening the curtains and hoping she’s woken up feeling well. Sometimes, the pain from fibromyalgia?1prevents her from walking, even if it’s just a short circuit around the mansion.

It’s the end of winter in New York, so it’s surprising to see a clear, cloudless sky and to feel a pleasant hint of warmth beginning to peek through—though the wind still lingers.

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