Locked by VR Tennent

Locked by VR Tennent

Author:VR Tennent
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Tags: romance, suspense, contemporary
Publisher: eXtasy Books Inc


Chapter Nineteen

Nicky

My house doesn’t feel like my own. The night of the attack, everything changed. The buzzer on the gate had sounded, and I’d hit enter without checking the screen. No one except Boyd ever visits us, so I’d assumed it was him. When the two dark cars stopped in the driveway, panic set in. My phone was upstairs in our bedroom on charge. I stood at the windows in the living room and watched as four huge men dressed in black exited the cars. One moved to the rear door and held it open. I recognised Reginald Worth from my late father-in-law’s funeral. He’s a distinctive man. The type of man who oozes control.

They all approached my front door. I opened it without releasing the chain, but they barged past me into the house, snapping the feeble metal. “What do you want?” I squeaked. “Joel isn’t here.” I knew the two families didn’t get along well, but my husband always played down any issues. My gut had told me for years I don’t know the whole story.

Reginald looked me over, his eyes hesitating a moment too long on my breasts. I stood mute waiting for him to speak. Unease bubbled in my stomach.

“How much do you know about your husband’s family? And our dealings with each other?” he asked, taking me by surprise.

“That’s none of your business,” I retorted.

“Ah,” he muttered. “The clueless wife. I always suspected you were removed from family politics. He keeps you busy playing with fabric whilst he deals with the real work. You do know your husband’s family moves in dark circles? Most of their business deals are handled behind closed doors with the aid of a brown envelope or a gun.”

My brain misfired and I spat out, “Don’t be stupid. Parker Industries have property and investments.”

He laughed and shook his head. “Special occasion?” he said, changing the subject, then signaled to the table set for two. A pristine white tablecloth was laid over our huge dining table. I’d used all our best crockery, and multiple candles flickered merrily on top. I shrugged. “A big effort you’ve made for a midweek dinner,” he continued. “Well, I don’t think your husband will be home any time soon. He was seen heading to Secrets a few minutes ago.”

My forehead creased in confusion. “Secrets?”

He chuckled at my lack of understanding. “Your husband’s private members club. Where gentlemen can enjoy private female entertainment,” he informed me raising his eyebrows.

“Fucking liar,” I snapped, and his eyes narrowed. “Joel doesn’t attend strip clubs.”

“No, he owns them,” he said, and his lips curled into a sly smile. One of his goons moved over to my precisely set table. He picked up a glass and held it up to the light, turning it between his fingers.

“Put that down,” I ordered. He shrugged and dropped it on the floor. It smashed and scattered across the room. “Bastard!” I rushed towards him and hit his chest with my hands. He grabbed my wrists to hold me at arm’s length, laughing loudly as I thrashed madly for release.



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