Page 144 of Beast

I fight my tears. “He’s smarter than them.”

“He’s not smart,” he snarls, dropping his nice guy mask.

“He’ll find a way to get to me.”

“You know him better than me, I suppose. You think he will outwit them?”

“The sheriff patrols, yes. But not your security detail,” I say, wiping my eyes.

“That’s true.” He smiles. Nice guy mask back in place. White teeth. Perfect hair. “You’ll stay with me at my home until you’re safe.”

I look up at him with large, appreciative eyes. “Thank you, Mayor. You are so kind.”

I watch through the back window of the car as the clubhouse gets farther and farther away.

“He married me because I own the land,” I murmur. “He used me.”

Mayor Boney loosens his tie. “Those men are bad news, Belle. Believe me, this town will thrive without them. They are a blight, and I will do whatever it takes to get rid of them.”

“And how do you plan to do that?”

“Well, if you sell me the land the clubhouse is on, then they’ll need to find somewhere else to live.”

“How much are you willing to pay?”

“Three million.”

I laugh. Three million dollars is more money than I could ever dream of having.

But it’s an insult.

“We’re talking about two hundred acres of prime real estate overlooking the town, with sweeping views of the ocean in one direction, and the woods and valley in the other. I might not know a lot about these kinds of things, Mayor, but I know that land is worth more than three million dollars.”

“Five million,” he says.

I look him in the eye. “Stop pulling my dick.”

He laughs. “I like you, Belle. Ten million dollars.”

Ten million.

What are the chances of me ever seeing ten million dollars in my bank account again?

“If I agree to sell it, what will you do with the land?”

He smiles, and it’s victorious. “Would you like to see?”

On the way to his home, we stop at his office which is in the tallest building in town. It’s a soaring eyesore of glass that is out of place in the quaint cobblestone streets and thatch-roof stores.

His office is on the top floor and is a lavish room with three-sixty views of the town, ocean, and surrounding woods. Everything screams wealth. The best of the best. Even his secretary is perfectly put together. High heels. Tight skirt. Make up like she’s about to pose for Vogue.

“During my last campaign, the townsfolk said they wanted more green space. More family orientated areas to congregate.” He walks us over to a massive model of the town set up near the window overlooking the ocean.

He points to the hill where the clubhouse usually sits. But it’s gone. In its place is a massive botanical garden and walkways.There is a barbecue area for families to grill on warm summer nights. A large playground for kids. There is even a public swimming pool.

“Being a campaign year, this has proved very popular with the people of St. Bon. They asked, and I am going to deliver.”

As we walk toward the elevator, I catch a glimpse of the clubhouse out the window and the knot in my chest tightens.

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