Page 221 of Callan

All these past few days, I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

And yet, I could never imagine something like this would happen.

Him taking over my life.

How was I supposed to know who he was?

He never said he had an office, a fancy desk, and a chair, and a bunch of secretaries. Frankly, he never mentioned his work.

I notice his silhouette inside the lobby, and my attention snaps back to my current situation.

One of the security guys greets him before the doorman holds the door for him.

I tear my gaze from him and look the other way.

I can’t stand looking at him right now.

The door opens and closes and the seat dips next to me before he instructs the driver to take us to his Long Island home.

My neck gets stiff from staring out the window.

How are his people even getting my stuff from my place?

I don’t need to know.

They’ve probably been there before. And then I remember the misplaced kitchen towel.

Yeah… They entered my place before.

So it’s not like he doesn’t know too much about me.

I wish I could take him captive and tell him that his life is over and he could only do what I’m telling him to do.

We don’t exchange a word the entire trip to Long Island.

He makes a few calls and talks cryptically to whoever is at the other end of the line.

I wouldn’t know what he’s talking about anyway.

Once the car pulls into the driveway, I expect to get out and then be directed to one of the big rooms in his house.

His housekeeper is waiting for us.

She must’ve gotten directions from him while he was talking on the phone.

The gate slides closed before we climb out.

His bodyguards enter the house with us.

Yes. So this is not exactly me being by myself, doing whatever I want.

He’s not taking any chances with me.

“Make that call, Mackenzie,” he says in a bossy voice I’m not accustomed to.

I let it slide as there is no point in having an argument in front of the staff and his bodyguards, and I pull my phone out.

“Here?” I ask, holding his eyes.

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