Page 140 of Tangled Kisses
“You want to bet?” he murmurs.
He pivots us slightly, angling my body out of view of the security camera tucked in the corner. Of course, he knows exactly where it is.
His voice drops into a lethal hiss.
“You’re going to play along, Reese. Smile for the cameras. Dance with me. Laugh, even. Because if you don’t…” His grip tightens. “People you care about might get hurt.”
I stare at him, my heart thudding so loud I can barely hear myself think.
His sneer is back, thin and controlled. “Now, let’s go get you looking like a lady again.”
I want to vomit.
Or throw open the door of this sleek black limo and hurl myself into oncoming traffic.
Anything to escape Vander’s clutches. But I’ll never be able to put enough distance between me and his vendetta.
I sit frozen beside him, his hand wrapped around my wrist like a steel cuff, tight enough to remind me who’s in charge.
We glide down the tree-lined road toward the fundraiser. The world outside sparkles with fairy lights and cocktail dresses. Inside, I’m suffocating.
Vander doesn’t look at me. His soulless eyes fix on the tinted window, reflecting the passing world.
“We’re on the same page.” His words are not a question, but a command.
I swipe at the tears on my cheeks with shaking fingers. “Why are you doing this to me?”
He scoffs, still not looking my way. “Why am I doing this toyou? That’s rich.” His grip tightens, and I try not to flinch. “I repeat, we’re on the same page.”
My whole body trembles. “No. I can’t do this.”
He reaches forward, calmly sliding the partition shut between us and the driver.
“That’s fine. Just means a slight change of plans for me.” His tone is casual, like he’s discussing a tee time instead of my life.
He opens the leather satchel by his side and flips through a stack of papers, almost bored.
“Pearl Topete,” he reads aloud. “Young, pretty little thing. Lives in a condo near Hollow Creek. Secluded patio out back where she likes to read there. Cameras on the front and sides of the building, but none on the patio. Convenient oversight.”
I gape at him, my blood freezing in my veins.
“Your whore, Griffin Topete. Ran a construction company that went belly up. Bad luck. Quite the reputation with the ladies, with a particular fondness for older women. Hence, you and Lauren, I assume.” His tone is mocking, yet another bullet aimed in my direction. “His cabin—charming, in that rustichillbilly fashion. No security system, though. More bad luck. For him, at least.”
He flips another page. “Would you like me to continue?”
I swallow hard around the lump in my throat, determined to downplay my fear. “So what? You hired some private dick to spy on everyone? Good for you. Now you know their zip codes and their floor plans.”
He chuckles, a low, menacing sound. “No, Reese. That’s not the fun part.”
I whisper, “The fun part?”
His eyes finally find mine, utterly devoid of warmth. “What I’ll do to them if you don’t follow my orders.”
My brain scrambles for a loophole, a bargaining chip, anything. But I have nothing. He knows it. I don’t have money. I don’t have power. He has both in spades—and he’s using every ounce of it against me, and against the people I love.
“You’re a monster.”
He leans in, so close I can see the thread count in his starched shirt. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”
