Chapter 242
[ 490 words ]
Chapter 242:
“Clean up this mess,” Cornelia ordered, gesturing to the shattered glass on the floor. “Don’t let the servants see how weak you are.”
Cornelia walked out of the room. The trap was fully armed. Caroline Thompson’s days were numbered.
Ten minutes earlier.
Caroline and Jarrod had just stepped out of the dining room into the grand foyer, preparing to walk up the stairs to the third floor.
“Miss Thompson.”
The General’s rough voice echoed behind them.
Jarrod stopped. His grip on Caroline’s arm tightened instantly.
They turned around. General Romero stood near the base of the stairs, leaning on his cane. He looked at Caroline, completely ignoring Jarrod.
D𝗼𝗻’𝘵 𝗺𝗂𝘴𝗌 𝗇𝖾w 𝘳𝘦𝗅е𝖺𝘀е𝗌 𝗼𝗇 𝗴a𝗹𝗻ov𝖾𝘭𝗌.cо𝗆
“You handled yourself well at the table this morning,” the General said, offering a rare, approving nod. “The orchids in my greenhouse are a study in survival. Some bloom only under the greatest pressure. I expect you there tomorrow at three. I believe we have matters of mutual survival to discuss.”
It was a massive olive branch. It was an invitation into the General’s inner sanctum.
Caroline opened her mouth to accept, recognizing the strategic value of the alliance.
Before she could speak, Jarrod’s hand clamped down on her waist like a vice.
A dark, violent wave of jealousy exploded in Jarrod’s chest. He could not stand it. He could not stand his grandfather looking at her with respect. He could not stand the idea of Caroline spending time with anyone else in this house.
“She is unavailable tomorrow,” Jarrod snapped, his voice harsh and completely disrespectful. “I’ve scheduled a private medical evaluation for her that I must personally attend.”
The General’s eyes narrowed at the blatant lie, but Jarrod didn’t give him time to argue.
Jarrod spun around. His left arm locked around her waist, pulling her firmly against his uninjured side, his right arm held motionless as he propelled her toward the side exit of the foyer. His long legs ate up the distance.
“Jarrod, what are you doing?” Caroline hissed, stumbling in her heels as he hauled her out into the crisp morning air. “Are you insane?”
Jarrod ignored her. His brain was consumed by a single, obsessive directive: get her out of here, hide her, keep her close.
K.C. Bell was idling the black armored SUV at the bottom of the steps.
Jarrod yanked the heavy rear door open with his left hand. He grabbed Caroline by the waist with his left arm and pulled her into the back seat, guiding her onto the leather before climbing in after her. His right arm remained rigid against his side throughout.
He slammed the door shut.
“Drive,” Jarrod barked at Bell. “Penthouse. Now.”
The massive SUV roared to life, tearing down the driveway and accelerating into the busy morning streets of Washington.
Jarrod hit a button on the door panel. The thick, bulletproof privacy partition hummed as it slid up, completely sealing the back seat off from the driver’s cabin.
The rear cabin was plunged into a dimly lit silence.
The second the partition locked into place, Jarrod lunged.
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