Page 10 of Wanted

Shit.

I waited for him to respond.

"Very well.” He nodded. “Send your final texts, then hand it over. You may retrieve your device when you leave, but you may not use it within the confines of my property, is that understood?"

A feeling welled up inside me, a feeling I resented, one I’d grown up with. It’s the same feeling you get being sent to the principal's office for a proper scolding.

And defending yourself always made it worse.

I would know.

I bit my tongue, tasting blood, and then nodded, holding all my resentment inside. Even still, it was hard to ignore the mesmerizing pull he had on me even while I was caught playing his game. Because make no mistake, this was all a game. The stakes were just higher for me than for him, which he undoubtedly knew as a filthy rich person, the kind that likes to use their money as whips to control the poor.

Turning my back on him, I texted Jeremy first.

I can't explain, but I won't have my phone on me a lot of the time. I'm sorry. But I'll check my messages whenever I can, so reach out if you need me. Stay safe. Stay away from dad. Do what you have to do to survive, kiddo. I'm going to take care of you. I promise.

The next text was much harder to send.

I'm in. Can't keep my phone on me… boss's rules or I would have lost the job. Don't expect regular check-ins. Not my fault. Honor our deal or I'm out.

I turned off the phone, knowing they were both likely responding that instant, and knowing it would be some time before I could answer. God, this would kill me.

“Fine, here,” I said, holding out my phone to the Count.

Our fingers brushed as he took it from my hand and damnit, the shivers returned, tracing up my spine in a flush of desire. I jerked back, vowing to avoid him as much as I could. "You said I’d get some money up front," I reminded him. If he was going to be a stickler for the rules, then so would I.

He nodded, once, and removed a stack of cash from the treasure box and handed it to me. "As promised."

I took it from him and ran a finger over the bills, counting them.

It was so much money. More than I'd ever held at once.

But it wasn't enough. Not by a long shot. Not to get me out of the mess I was in.

I tucked it in my purse and walked to the door, feeling the Count's eyes on my back with each step I took. It was difficult to resist the impulse to look back one last time. But I couldn’t let him have that much sway over me.

So I stayed strong and kept my eyes forward. But, oh my heavens, it was hard.

Once in the hall, I darted into the nearest room, closed the door quickly behind me and slumped against it, releasing a gasp of breath I’d held in for too long. My head spun from the entire encounter, but more importantly,just what had I done?

I had a knack for getting myself into shit-filled messes, but this particular mess was brewing to be the worst of them all.

Still, I patted my purse. There was a lot of money in this mansion—especially in that safe of his. And from what I’d seen, that stash could solve nearly all my problems.

After taking a few deep, calming breaths, I emerged back into the hall and returned to the foyer where Leonard waited.

“Would you care for a tour, Miss Kassandra?” he asked.

“Please.”

He spun smartly on his heel and proceeded to give me a brief tour of the place. I drank in every detail like a man lost in the desert who finally discovered water. There was so much…and much of it strange. A crystal fountain that produced a soft white smoke rather than water. Art pieces and sculptures that looked ancient, but instead of the normal religious figures from those times, these all sported creatures of fantasy. The doors were unusually tall, and there were so many rooms. Had the Count actually built on to the place? The kitchen was huge, fit for a host of gourmet chefs to compete at once. There was so much I lost count of it all, several dining rooms, a formal living room, and even a media room with a wall-sized television that rivaled most movie theaters. Then, the ballroom, a gym, a short walk through the gardens outside complete with Zen mazes, and back to a library stacked with books… There was even a forge with an anvil.

"Who uses the forge?" I asked unable to believe my eyes.

"The Count. He enjoys his hobbies from time to time," Leonard said.

The appraiser in me put a value on every knickknack, every painting, every hand-woven rug, tapestry, sculptureandartifact I’d seen. The numbers were staggering. It was beyond tempting, but I couldn't touch any of it. I had to keep my hands clean for my Jeremy plan to work. At least, for now. Until… And then? At any rate, desperate times called for desperate measures, and all that.

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