Chapter 108
[ 492 words ]
Chapter 108:
Cornelia’s stomach dropped. She grabbed Harper’s arm, her fingernails digging brutally into her daughter’s flesh.
“I apologize, Marcy,” Cornelia said quickly, her heart racing. “Jarrod has spoiled her rotten since she was a child. She has no filter.”
To desperately break the suffocating tension, Cornelia opened her diamond-encrusted clutch. She pulled out her phone and dialed Jarrod’s private encrypted number.
It rang once and went straight to a cold, automated voicemail.
Cornelia lowered the phone. A cold sweat broke out on the back of her neck. Something was wrong. Jarrod never ignored a direct summons from the General.
She snapped her fingers at a massive security guard standing near the archway.
“Why hasn’t the Colonel’s motorcade arrived at the front gate?” Cornelia demanded, her voice dropping its sweet facade.
𝖣𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗇𝖾𝗐 𝗌𝗍𝗈𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗇 𝗀𝖺𝗅𝗇𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗅𝗌.𝖼𝗈𝗆
The guard swallowed hard and tapped his earpiece.
“Ma’am,” the guard said nervously. “Camera feed shows the Colonel’s armored SUV bypassed the media line five minutes ago. He drove around the perimeter. He entered through the West Side Gate.”
Cornelia’s chest tightened. The West Side Gate was a dark, hidden entrance used strictly by internal family members to avoid the press. Why was Jarrod sneaking into his own family’s party?
A massive wave of panic hit her stomach.
“Excuse me, Marcy,” Cornelia said abruptly.
She didn’t wait for a response. She turned and practically ran out of the alcove, her heels clicking frantically against the marble as she headed straight for the grand staircase. She had to warn General Augustus immediately. The board was moving, and she was losing control.
The black armored SUV glided silently down the hidden, ivy-choked driveway on the west side of the Romero estate. It completely bypassed the flashing cameras, the red carpet, and the suffocating crowd at the front entrance.
The heavy vehicle rolled to a smooth stop in front of a massive, arched wooden door.
K.C. Bell killed the engine, stepped out into the freezing night air, and pulled the heavy rear door open.
Caroline sat frozen in the leather seat. She stared through the open door at the towering, oppressive stone walls of the mansion. It looked like a medieval prison. Her operative instincts screamed at her. The air outside the car felt thick with hidden threats.
Her palms began to sweat. Her fingers curled into tight fists, crushing the soft fabric of her expensive velvet clutch. Her breathing grew shallow and rapid.
Jarrod felt the sudden, rigid tension radiating from her body.
He didn’t bark an order to move. He shifted his massive frame across the seat, reached out, and wrapped his large, burning hot hands completely over her freezing, trembling knuckles.
“Look at me,” Jarrod commanded, his voice a low, steady rumble.
Caroline forced her eyes away from the dark doorway and looked up at his face.
“You do not need to fear a single person in that building,” Jarrod stated, his gray eyes locking onto hers with absolute, terrifying conviction. “You standing there is a direct extension of my will. Anyone who looks at you is looking at me.”
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