“What kind of surprise?” There’s sleepy curiosity in her tone now, the post-orgasm haze softening her edges.
“The kind you have to wait for.” I can’t help but smile at her small sound of protest. “I’ll pick you up Saturday morning. No arguments.”
“Bossy.” But she’s smiling, too; I can hear it.
“You love it.” And she does. She loves when I take control, when I remove the burden of choice from her shoulders. “Get some sleep, baby. Dream of me.”
“Always do.” The admission is soft, honest. “Goodnight, Reign.”
“Night, Audrey.”
I end the call but remain in my chair, staring at the phone like it might transport me to her. Two more days of this torture.Two more days of her playing perfect daughter while I finalize the pieces that will free her.
Unable to sit still, I push myself up and walk to the guest room—her studio. The space is nearly complete now. New windows installed to capture the morning light. Walls painted a soft white that won’t compete with her art. Built-in storage for supplies. Everything an artist could need to create.
I stand in the doorway, imagining her here. Paint-stained fingers. Hair pulled back in a messy bun. That look of concentration she gets when she’s focused on something she loves. This is what I can give her—not just freedom from Vega, but freedom to be herself.
Saturday can’t come fast enough.
TWELVE
AUDREY
“Now,you’re absolutely certain the Patterson girl will be there?” Lucille picks up the reunion invitation I strategically left on my dresser.
“Her father was one of our foundation’s biggest donors last year, you know.”
“Yep, Sarah confirmed yesterday.” I tuck my toiletry bag into the side pocket. “She mentioned that Rebecca Mills will be there, too. Her husband runs that pharmaceutical company.”
Lucille nods approvingly from her perch on my vanity chair.
“Excellent. Her mother sits on the board at Children’s Hospital, and we could use that connection for the charity gala.”
“I’ll be sure to reconnect with everyone,” I say, making my voice appropriately dutiful while my mind races with thoughts of Reign.
It’s Saturday morning, and I’m in my room packing for my secret weekend away with Reign. I told Lucille that I’m going to a high school majorette reunion this weekend. It’s not exactly a lie. There really is a reunion happening, and I really did register. I’m just not planning to attend.
Lucille watches me fold my night gown, her manicured fingers tapping against the invitation.
“And you’ll stay at the resort the entire weekend?” She studies me with those sharp eyes that miss nothing.
“That’s the plan.” I zip the suitcase closed, avoiding her gaze. “The reunion committee booked a block of rooms.”
“Good. Gio mentioned he has business in New York this weekend, anyway.” She stands, smoothing invisible wrinkles from her cream-colored skirt. “Perhaps this little getaway will help you refocus. You’ve seemed distracted lately.”
If only she knew how distracted. My phone buzzes with a text, and I know without looking it’s Reign telling me he’s ten minutes out.
“I should get going,” I say, lifting my suitcase. “Don’t want to miss the welcome brunch.”
She follows me to the foyer, watching as I set my suitcase by the door.
“I still don’t understand why you couldn’t take Harold,” she says, referring to our driver.
“It’s a casual reunion, Lucille. I want to blend in, not arrive like royalty.” I force a light laugh. “Besides, I enjoy the drive through the mountains.”
Her gaze sweeps over me one more time, cataloging and critiquing as always. “Well, drive safely. Text me when you arrive.”
She glides from my room, leaving behind the lingering scent of her new perfume. It smells expensive and suffocating, like everything else about my life in this house. I wait until I hear her heels clicking down the marble staircase before I grab my phone.