Page 28 of Wicked Truths
“Then contact Mexico.” My voice is steady; the coolness helps ground me in this storm.
Helena screams at me again, words laced with rage as she storms off for good this time. Those irritating heels of hers clicking loudly against the marble floor, each step echoing in my ears.
I feel eyes on me, and I glance up to see Amara still lingering on the staircase.
“Amara,” I start, but she shakes her head slightly and retreats further into shadow and vanishes completely from sight.
“You’ll regret this, Dom!” Helena yells. “I’ll take twenty-five million from you.”
Helena’s threats linger in the air like smoke.
“Try it, but you can’t spend money if you’re dead.”
Frustration bubbles over and she screams in response. But I don’t care what she says or where she goes now. The only thing that matters is protecting Amara from this mess—and from herself if it comes to that.
“I want you out of this house tomorrow,” I tell Helena when she stops screaming.
I don’t wait for more abuse; I turn on my heel, walk away until I reach my office. I slam the door, the heavy wood echoes in my ears, luckily drowning out Helena’s last shout.
She can scream all she wants; I need to focus on what really matters—Amara.
I settle into my leather chair, the familiar scent of rich hide and cedar grounding me.
My fingers tap over my desk as I recall every one of Helena’s threats. I need to make sure she knows who she is dealing with.
I open my laptop. The glow of the monitor lights up my face as I pull up the security footage.
My fingers dance over the keyboard, and I skip through the clips until I find what I’m looking for—the live feed from Amara’s room.
I hesitate, feeling a twinge of guilt. Watching her like this feels intrusive, but I like to watch her. She makes me feel something I shouldn’t feel.
The image flickers before me as I click to view the hidden camera feed. I have four hidden cameras in her room. She can’t escape me. Only her bathroom is the place I don’t intrude.
She stands with her back against the door, deep in concentration, or listening to Helena ranting.
Her hand lifts, and she turns the lock. I chuckle softly; that lock is just for show.
When she thinks she is safely inside, Amara walks to her dressing table, opens her drawer and retrieves a bag. She takes her laptop and settles onto her bed, one leg crossed over the other as she taps away on the keyboard.
I change the feed to the one above her head. The one hidden in the down light. The one I use when I want to watch her sleep.
A smile creeps across my lips as I scan her screen.
Pampered Princess glows back at me, vibrant pink letters illuminating the darkness of her room. And there’s that mask poking out from the bag beside her, teasing me.
I open my incognito browser, see she is online for chatting only, just how I like it.
I log in and type:It’s been a long time. Where have you been?
SweetBunny: Working out how to change my life.
Me: I can change it for you.
SweetBunny: Where do you live?
Is she thinking about running away if someone gives her the opportunity?
Me: London. Do you want to visit? I can send my plane to collect you.
