Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 452(@200wpm)___ 362(@250wpm)___ 302(@300wpm)
Surprise flutters over her features. “He was home?”
“He didn’t get any sleep, though,” I voice my worry. “He’s working really hard.”
Unlike Tymon, who sat around all day barking orders while hurting and killing people.
I shove the memory away as quickly as it popped into my head and get to work. I’ve been making a conscious effort to not think about Tymon and what he’s done to me.
I can’t change my past, but it doesn’t mean I have to think about it all the time and let it sour my future.
Once we’re done having breakfast, Murat walks with me to the SUV we’ll use. I’m surprised when I see nine other men waiting for us.
I expected one or two guards, not a whole crowd.
“So many guards?” I gasp.
“Gabriel Bey just wants to make sure you’re safe. You won’t even know they’re there,” Murat informs me.
Ten guards. You only have so many to protect something you think is really precious.
Swallowing hard on the emotion the realization stirs in my chest, I climb into the back of the SUV. We leave the property in an entourage of four vehicles, making me feel like I’m someone of importance.
Murat glances in the rearview mirror. “What do you want to buy for Alya Hanim?”
“A vase so she can have flowers in her sitting room?”
He nods. “Sounds good.”
The other guard, Daniel, keeps quiet, but he’s constantly searching our surroundings for a threat, and it’s making me nervous.
Murat parks the car near the mall’s entrance, and I’m ushered out of the vehicle and into the building so fast that I’m out of breath.
With Murat next to me, Daniel in front of me, and the other guards spread out around us, I walk to the nearest ATM so I can check my bank balance.
When I get the little slip with the information on it, my eyebrows draw together. “This can’t be right.”
“What?” Murat asks, leaning closer.
I show him the piece of paper. “There’s too much money.”
“Put your card in again.”
I do as he says, and I watch as he presses another button making the machine produce another slip of paper. Looking at it, Murat shows me the transactions. “Look, there’s the incoming transfer from Demir Group Int.”
My eyes widen. “Gabriel gave me all this money?”
“Yes.” Murat hands me the slip, then nudges my lower back. “Let’s move. We can’t stay in one place for too long.”
Stunned out of my mind that Gabriel gave me twenty thousand dollars, I walk in a daze until Murat tugs me into a store.
“What about this vase?” he asks.
I focus my attention on the beautiful navy, turquoise, and red vase, the mosaic patterns forming a ten-pointed star.
“I think Alya Hanim will like it. Right?”
“Definitely. She loves blue,” Murat agrees.
He calls a store assistant closer and asks for the vase to be packaged. When I’m standing at the counter to pay for my purchase, I glance around at all the pretty items, thinking I’d like to get Gabriel a gift to say thank you for everything he’s done for me.
Glancing up at Murat, I ask, “What do you think Gabriel would like?”
He lets out a chuckle. “Nothing in here.”
“A tie?”
He shakes his head. “He gets plenty of those from Nisa Hanim and Alya Hanim.”
After I’ve paid for the vase, Murat carries the bag as we walk from store to store, looking for something Gabriel might like.
As we pass a boutique, a dress in the window display catches my eyes. I stop for a moment to admire the shimmering silver gown. With a low neckline, the material is folded softly around the front. The back is exposed, and it would stop right above my butt.
I wish I could wear something like this but won’t dare with the scars on my back.
“Do you like it?” Murat asks.
I nod. “But I’ll never wear something like this. It’s beautiful, though.”
Continuing my search, I finally find a store that looks like it caters to men. There are cigar boxes that I avoid.
I stop in front of a display case. There are beautiful pens encased in wooden boxes. One draws my attention, and I ask the man behind the counter, “Can I see the gold fountain pen?”
He places the rectangular box on top of the display case, and I stare at all the tiny watch mechanisms in the middle of the pen.
“He’d like that,” Murat agrees.
I check the price tag and almost swallow my tongue.
Holy crap.
Murat’s phone rings, and as he takes the call, I stare at the fountain pen.
It’s five thousand, four hundred and ninety-nine dollars. That’s a lot of money. My teeth worry on my bottom lip.
The money in my account came from Gabriel, so it wouldn’t be a bad thing to spend it on him. Right?
I glance at Murat, who seems to be on a serious call, so I can’t ask for his advice.