Page 48 of Sweetest Sin
My phone rings with a call from George.
“Yeah.”
“She ran.”
Fuck.
“Follow her.” I jump up from my seat on the couch. “And send me your location. Remember, don’t fucking touch her.”
I hang up and grab my luggage by the door.
“Peyton ran,” I tell Matteo. “Apparently, she’s determined to defy me at every turn.”
He shakes his head. “Women are nothing but goddamn trouble.”
17
Peyton
I waited,wanting to make sure Dominick was gone before I made my escape. And then I held off a little longer, afraid he was still around. Then, after a couple of hours, I started to worry that if I stayed too long, he would return.
So, I packed up my stuff and made my move. I had found a flight heading back to Coral Bay in a few hours and booked it. It was with a commercial airline, so I had to pay for it, but there was no way I was risking getting on a private flight. If he had known what hotel and room to find me in, he’d also know when I was scheduled to get on the plane to go home.
When I stepped out of the room, the hall was empty, and I released a relieved breath, thinking I was in the clear. But the moment I started to walk toward the elevator, I felt someone on my trail. He followed me into the elevator, down to the first floor, and continued as I made my way to the airport.
I speed-walk through the airport, past the check-in desks, and down the escalator that will take me to security. Once I’mthrough, I’ll be in the clear because only ticketed passengers can get past security, and there’s no way this guy bought a ticket.
Because it’s early, the line goes quickly, and before I know it, I’m handing my driver’s license over to security and being waved through.
I go through the metal detector, and just as I’m about to grab my carry-on from the conveyor belt, a gentleman lifts it and says, “Ma’am, I need you to come with me.”
Are you freaking kidding me?
“Is there a problem with my luggage?” I ask.
“Please come with me,” he says, walking us toward a secluded area.
It’s just my luck that while I’m in a rush, my luggage raises a red flag. Luckily, I arrived a bit early for my flight.
He opens the door for me, and I step inside, ready to ask him again what’s wrong with my luggage when I see the man who was following me standing in the room.
“No!” I breathe out, turning to run.
But the door is closed and locked, and I’m fucked.
“Let me out right now!” I demand even though it’s fruitless. “I have a flight to catch.”
He stares at me with bored disinterest, and it boils my blood. I stalk over to the door and start to bang on it, yelling for someone to help me, but nobody comes.
I refuse to give up, needing to take my anxiousness and frustration out on something, while the man who clearly works for Dominick stands in the corner, watching, his features devoid of expression.
I’m still banging on the door when it swings open, forcing me to stumble back. Dominick, dressed in the same sharp suit as earlier, saunters in, and his gray eyes, filled with disdain, lock with mine.
“I told you not to leave,” he says, cornering me against the wall.
“And I told you to leave me alone!” I volley with false bravado. The truth is, I’m shaking, scared of what will happen next.
Will he demand to meet Damien?
