by Piper Stone
As Rafael moved toward the door, I stood scanning the perimeter, enjoying the wide-open space. To think I’d spent months cooped up with another inmate, the six by six cell barely offering any room to think, let alone move around.
I walked closer to one of the palm trees, hibiscus flowers flanking both sides. Everything was exquisite, a palace meant for a king.
One of corruption.
I hadn’t realized how long I’d been standing in one position until Rafael flanked my side.
“We’re in. Not as sophisticated as I would have expected,” he stated with amusement.
“I doubt he’d going to have too many people flying in unexpectedly to break into his mansion. Remember, the place is off the grid.”
“True enough. I’ve had several jobs in the Caribbean and never knew this place existed. I could see getting lost here, spending the rest of my life picking coconuts.”
I burst into laughter. “I don’t buy that for a second. You’d be bored to death.”
He turned to face me, grinning like a kid. “You might be surprised. I think I’m ready to settle down. You know, start a family. Buy a Golden Retriever. The same shit we talked about when we were kids.”
I coughed on purpose then shifted back to face the house. “That was then. This is now. Hallmark families don’t exist.”
“I think you’re wrong, Sawyer.”
A few awkward seconds passed. “Tell me about this Tiffany.”
“As I said, I only know her by reputation but from what I’ve heard, she’s a real bitch. Tough lady. I’m surprised someone like Carter would go for that type.”
My thoughts drifted to Amber. “He needs to feed his penchant for women, including those capable of handling his particular brand of kink. Maybe Tiffany enjoys being treated like a dog.”
“Maybe so.” He seemed antsy, kicking his boot against the driveway surface. “You want to tell me about her?”
“I don’t know shit about Tiffany. Never met her.” But I was looking forward to spending some quality time with her. Perhaps she was already in route. Perhaps Carter wouldn’t give a shit if she found us waiting for her. Perhaps he wasn’t behind the fact we’d been followed. Only time would tell.
Rafael moved in front of me, a wry look on his face. “I’m not talking about Tiffany. I’m talking about whoever made you even more jaded.”
I studied him for a few seconds, my throat tightening. “Nothing to talk about.”
“I understood what you were saying earlier. Evidently we do need to talk if you plan on tasting what belongs to Carter Bradley.”
Rafael had always had an innate ability to look right through me, keeping me on my toes. “As I said, there’s nothing to talk about.”
Another round of tension settled in.
“Look, I fucking hate what happened to you, but you’re one of the good guys. I have no problem helping to nail the fucker to the wall including putting a bullet in his mouth if necessary, but the girl? She could be innocent.”
“First of all, the women Carter gets involved with are never innocent. Never. They’re manipulative in whatever way they feel appropriate in order to better their situation. Just another user.” I shifted my gaze, locking eyes with his. “And I’m no longer one of the good guys, Rafael. As I told Jax, I suggest you keep that in mind.”
He took a deep breath, his eyes shifting back and forth as if trying to search for my very soul. “Let’s check out the house.” He walked away quickly, shaking his head.
I stood still for a few seconds, tipping my head toward the almost cloudless day, drinking in the sweet smell of the ocean. My soul had been ripped from me long before, leaving me a shell of a man.
And nothing good would come from within the darkness that enshrouded me.
I wasn’t just a bad man.
I would become a brutal, ruthless killer.
Smiling, I took long strides toward the estate. For a little while, I could pretend this was mine.
And I planned on enjoying the hell out of it.
The place was just as I’d remembered it, exquisite in every way. While some of the furnishings had been changed, likely purchased with my money, the look and feel were the same. Wide open. Artistic. Welcoming.
Totally unlike the man himself.
“Hell, yeah. The man has some excellent tastes. I’ll give him that. I think I’ll try and find us that bottle of tequila.” Rafael dumped his bag onto the foyer floor, taking long strides into another room.
I gazed at the various pieces of art before heading into the expansive living room, able to catch a glimpse of the ocean. As I walked closer to the glass doors, peering out over the deck, I held my breath.
“Maybe one day I can live at the beach,” Amber said then blew me a kiss.
“You do live at the beach. We’re in Miami,” I said, teasing.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, goofy. A real beach. With lots of sand and absolute privacy.”
I’d known all along what she’d been talking about.
Yeah, this was exactly the kind of place I wanted to spend the rest of my life. Away from everyone. No interruptions. No bullshit.
Just peace.
As if a man like me deserved to find peace.
“Take a look at what I found. We need to celebrate,” Rafael boomed as he stormed back into the room.
I gathered a hint of his reflection. “And what are we celebrating?”
He seemed taken aback. “You’re not behind prison walls.”
“For now.”
“Okay. For now.” He forced a glass into my hand then backed away, finding then unlocking the back doors. He stopped short before heading onto the deck. “Just try and remember the man you used to be. You’re better than Carter. Hell, you’re better than any other man I’ve ever met.”
As Rafael walked down the deck stairs, I took a swig of the drink, enjoying the light burn sliding down the back of my throat. When I finally walked outside, I realized perhaps I was exactly like Carter.
I headed down the stairs, still enjoying the view, but I could swear I heard the sound of an airplane approaching.
The show was just about to start.
And I couldn’t wait for the feast.
Chapter Five
Delaney
My stomach flipped upside down from the turbulence of the smaller plane. I refused to hurl inside of a multimillion-dollar lavish jet, no matter how sick I felt. “Oh, God. What did I get myself into?” I’d been given forty-five minutes to grab a few things. At least I’d changed clothes; the walking shorts, blouse, and low shoes were a hell of a lot more comfortable than my conservative suit. Still, I was uncomfortable as hell, chastising the ballsy bitch inside for making such a huge promise. Maybe you’ll find hot romance on the island. I bit back a laugh. Not a chance in hell.
“You sound horrible,” Justine said, although her voice was starting to break up.
“I’m fine. Just can’t wait to get there.” I wasn’t fine at all, the revelation that I had to take the perfect pictures weighing heavily on my mind. I also couldn’t stop thinking about the look on Carter’s face after reading my text. I was shocked to be sitting on the plane.
“And you’re all by yourself? No pool boys to take care of you?”
I glanced out the window at the incredible turquoise blue water, still reeling from the fact my boss had learned how much I hated him. “I know. A tragedy.”
“You deserve some time alone. If it helps you in that incredible position you have, then pretend the house is yours. Take fabulous pictures. I know how talented you are. Remember?”
“I hear you.” Justine was perhaps the single person in my fan club. My life was weighing heavily on my mind. I glanced at my phone, noticing the signal was fading. I doubted Mr. Bradley was going to do anything but wait to see if I failed.
“Uh-huh. You need to have more faith in yourself.”
“And you need to stop nagging me. I’ll be fine,” I insisted, cringing
after saying the words.
“I’m not going... sorry... I...”
Crap.
“You’re breaking up, Justine. I think we’re getting close.” I hadn’t asked many questions about where we were going. I knew the swanky destination was somewhere in the Caribbean, the private island likely what dreams were made of.
Only I’d never lived in a fantasy world.
“Ms. Archer. We’ll be landing in a few minutes. Sit back and relax,” Walter, the pilot called through the speaker.
“Be careful. The... weather... unpredictable... and the... storm...” Justine’s words were barely recognizable.
“What are you talking about?”
“The... escape... and...”
When the line went completely dead, I huffed, still staring at the screen. What in God’s name had Justine been getting at?
Shove it aside. You have work to do.
My little voice was correct. I had limited time to prove my worth. Ms. Maxwell had given me a whirlwind of information about the property, confirming the fact any calls would have to be made from the communications room. No cell phone coverage. No internet service. Great.
What the hell. At least Ted couldn’t get in touch with me.
After shoving the phone in my back pocket, I glanced at the seat next to me. Carter had been photographed at some of the most pristine locations on Earth, his travels taking him all over the world. The thought of being able to please the towering man was daunting.
He certainly had connections to some of the richest people in the world because of his family. I knew all about his family, more than I cared to know. I was curious about the other... opportunities he’d mentioned. Hmm...
I fingered the massive file I’d been given; a list of photographs to be taken, instructions on how to use the various facilities included. There was a pool and hot tub, a gourmet kitchen, and a wine cellar. Justine was right. I should enjoy myself. I was giddy with the thought of being alone with such delicious delicacies. This might be perfect for my psyche. Who was I kidding? Living like the rich and famous would be delicious after spending months in my tiny apartment.
I shifted closer to the window, my eyes opening wide as the island came into view. The sight of the pearlescent white beaches surrounded by crystal clear water was breathtaking. It was amazing how some people lived.
After grabbing my camera, I couldn’t help but snap a few shots for my private collection. The memories would be ones I’d keep for a long time. I doubted anything like this was ever going to happen to me again, especially if I failed this particular task.
While I couldn’t see the house, I had the distinct feeling that it was grand, an extension of Carter Bradley’s extreme wealth. Fast cars. Fancy dinners. Expensive clothes. I’d read about him in several publications even before getting hired onto his firm. He was a notorious womanizer to some. A great catch to others.
I shivered at the thought. No, he was just an asshole who didn’t give credence to anything I said.
Have confidence, girl. You got this.
I bit back a laugh, but my inner voice was correct. I was an excellent photographer. A few days in a tropical paradise? Oh, hell, yes.
Within minutes, the plane had landed on a private strip, coming to a gentle stop in what appeared to be only a few feet from the ocean. I hated flying, only the flights I’d been on before had been crowded, more like a cattle-car than leather seats and a well-stocked bar.
The pilot said little as he guided me to a small building, using a pile of keys to unlock the door. When I heard the rumble of a small engine, I took a step backwards. The golf cart looked unused, the building obviously designed for housing it and nothing else. He placed my luggage in the small compartment in the back.
Taking a deep breath, I took several additional photographs as I drank in the marvelous view, the ocean water calmly lapping at the shoreline. I couldn’t wait to sink my toes into the sand.
I remained in awe as he maneuvered up the expansive driveway, stopping just outside the front door. I was aware my mouth was gaped open at the sight of the estate. While I’d expected posh, I hadn’t anticipated such an incredible modernized beach house. Two floors of absolute beauty, the extended height an attempt to accommodate tropical conditions. What an amazing place.
Walter climbed out of the cart, positioning my bags by the front door. “You were given keys and the security code?”
“Yes.”
“Then I think you’ll have everything you need. Just remember, there’s no way off this island right now except by plane. Mr. Bradley had already placed his boats in storage hoping the place will sell. Oh, there is a computer at your disposal if’n you want to check out those pictures you took. Don’t try to get internet service though. You’ll find it in the library.”
The library. Oh, my.
I eased the keys from my overnight bag, swallowing several times before managing to climb out of the cart. “Thank you. I’ll keep that in mind.”
“I’ll return for you in a few days.”
A man of few words.
“Walter. Is there bad weather rolling in?” I asked, thinking about Justine’s scattered words.
He scratched his head, his eyes unfocused. “It’s hurricane season, miss. There’s a tropical depression I’m keeping an eye on, but the forecasters think it’s gonna turn away from the area. I wouldn’t worry about it. Granted, storms can pop up at any time, but the house can withstand a hurricane. It has before. I’ll be back in four days to claim you. Try and enjoy. Mr. Bradley rarely allows people he doesn’t know to spend time at his fortress without him. You must be important to his company or at least to the man himself.”
A hurricane. I shuddered at the thought. Maybe the house could withstand one. I wasn’t certain about me. I wanted to remind him that I was Mr. Bradley’s assistant, but I wasn’t certain that meant my boss actually knew me. In fact, we’d had zero personal conversations since I’d come to work for him six months before. I gave Walter a polite nod as I fingered my camera. I’d purchased the beloved Nikon years before, spending money I didn’t have. All in an effort to be rich and famous.
Time to put it to good use for once instead of taking beautiful but worthless pictures of skyscrapers and flowering trees.
Walter headed back to the cart, not bothering to address me again. I was just another one of the hired help as far as he was concerned. I waited, watching him as he drove away, a hint of loneliness already creeping in. I’d never spent more than two days by myself. This would prove to be interesting.
I hesitated before opening the door, immediately inhaling the most incredible scents of vanilla and cinnamon. I scrambled to get to the security system, surprised there were no beeps or notifications that I’d done the code correctly. I guess I’d know soon enough if I’d made a mistake.
From where I stood in the foyer, I felt as if I’d fallen into an incredible fantasy. After closing the door, I had difficulty walking into the next room, but as soon as I did, my suitcases slipped out of my hand. Who lived like this? I took a deep breath when there were no alarms sounding off throughout the house. It was time to explore.
The interior of the house was just as incredible as the exterior; every piece of furniture likely costing more than I made in a year, the art gorgeous and provocative, and the high ceilings and massive windows allowing a perfect view of the ocean from the rear. I stood staring out at the pool, waves rolling against the shoreline an incredible background. I didn’t bother moving my suitcases, preferring to stroll through a portion of the house.
I exhaled as I walked through the house, purposely touching various pieces of furniture. A smile crossed my face as I recognized several pieces.
When I found the kitchen, I became the kid in the candy store, turning in sweeping circles, my inner giddy schoolgirl laughter floating above me. “Gorgeous,” I whispered as I dragged the tips of my fingers over the glistening marble countertop, appliances that appeared the color of burnished ste
el. I did a little tap dance, already thinking about cracking open a bottle of wine.
Until I noticed a glass in the sink. Stopping short, I scanned the kitchen, looking for any other odd signs. Perhaps whoever cleaned the house had merely been neglectful. Nothing else seemed amiss. When I took the glass into my hand, pulling it slowly to my nose, I could swear I was able to gather a hint of tequila. Maybe wishful thinking. I laughed softly to myself and checked the refrigerator, delighted to find not only water and orange juice, but several chilled bottles of wine as well. The question of the evening would be red or white?
I found my way to the massive sliding doors, the incredible deck flanked by a massive set of stairs that led to the most glorious flagstone patio. The view was unlike anything I’d ever seen. I snapped picture after picture, already starting to relax. The light fluffy clouds and perfect blue sky were a magical backdrop to capture some incredible outdoor pictures. The images would give me a good start.
I slowly walked downstairs, feeling like a princess. After putting the water on one of the half dozen tables, I pulled off my shoes, moving around the lagoon-style pool and taking several shots that included the back of the house.
After snapping a solid dozen images, I realized the sun must have moved, several shadows popping up, including in one of the windows. Sighing, I turned my attention to the beach. It was likely the lighting would be an issue from a distance. Besides, I could get my feet wet. I moved down the walkway, thrilled I’d clawed my way out of my comfort zone.
Grinning, I headed toward the bank of palm trees lightly swaying in the afternoon breeze, their fronds almost luminescent in the shimmering sun. As the water came in close proximity, something caught my eye. Shielding my eyes, I took a few steps until I realized what I was looking at. A dock. While that made sense, what didn’t was the powerboat that had been tied to one of the moors. I immediately reached for my phone, my instinct to call and tell Carter that he’d left one of his boats.
