CHAPTER352
I leave Sylvana’s not realizing how late in the evening it is, and let myself into the house, the entrance hall is in complete darkness, so I clap my hands to switch on the lights.
Jake and his gadgets.
It’s eerily quiet and peaceful in here, now I can see my hall minus a lot of tools and mess and protective sheeting. I blink around appreciatively and place my bag on the uncovered side unit and sigh with annoyance when I notice that damn crowbar, from here you can just spot it between the rails. The workman who left it on the stairs in the first place obviously hadn’t realized that Jake moved it, so here it is still in my house, hanging halfway up my banister where Jake left it.
Every other tool in the place is gone just not that. I suppose given the color of the vertical dark metal railings it’s easy to miss a crowbar hanging dejectedly beside them; similar in color, it would be easy to slip from eye sight at every other angle in the house but this one.
I head for the stairs to save my beautiful wooden handrail from the ugly metal bar, but my phone ringing distracts me, drawing me back to the entrance way. Jake has kept in contact a few times today and I spoke to him on my cell at his mamma’s before I came home so it’s probably him; making sure I managed to walk the fifty yards back home without injury or getting lost. I walk to my bag and fish it out, seeing Mathews name flash up on the screen. It’s strange for Mathews to ring me so I instantly inhale like something’s wrong, internally tensing.
“Hello?” I ask in a friendly tone.
“Miss. Anderson, good evening. I’m just calling to inform you that I’m on my way back.” Oh, of course. He’s been out collecting some things I ordered from a nearby home décor boutique. Sylvana sent him to get them earlier since I was at her house for the day and he was hanging around waiting for something to do. Since Sylvana has security at her house it seemed a waste to not let Mathews out for a few hours. He’s probably only been gone an hour at most anyway.
“Okay, that’s me home now so I’ll probably go upstairs and take a bath, you can retire for the night.” I smile as I say it, so he’ll get warmth in my tone. Mathews has a fatherly quality to him that is growing on me; he makes me feel safe in the same way Jake does and I’m starting to wonder if that’s why Jake has entrusted me into Mathews care, because he knows that I feel this way about Mathews. So, in a way it’s like Jake is watching over me even in his absence.
“Very good, Miss. Anderson. I’ll check the house and lock up before I go to my own quarters. Have a good night.” His friendly yet efficient tone is as close to unprofessional as I’ll ever get with him; the man is all business.
“Good night,” I breathe softly and hang up, remembering suddenly that we never got the keys back. The workmen must’ve forgotten to bring them to Sylvana’s or took them home ready to bring in tomorrow. These contract workers are so incompetent, their inability to follow instructions and keep a clear workspace irritates me. I call Mathews back immediately.
“Miss. Anderson is there something else?” He sounds very business-like and professional again instantly, never missing a beat.
“Yes, Mathews. The workers have finished here but they didn’t leave the keys as instructed.” I sigh heavily, irritation creasing at my forehead and I look around overwhelmed at the high-tech door locks and fan dangled things that I haven’t a clue of how to operate. Those keys do everything.
“I’ll deal with it, ma’am. I’ll collect them before I return; may I suggest, in the meantime, you can arm the house with the code 101, it’s a temporary alarm that can only be bypassed with a code that only Mr. Carrero and I have.” Smooth efficiency and no hint of worry; he instantly makes me feel better.
“Thank you, yes. I shall do.” I smile, knowing how safety conscious Mathews is and the thought of that little bit of extra security makes me feel better; at least I won’t have to mess with the crazy looking boxes on the door I assume are locks.
I wander to the digital panel on the inner wall of the entrance and arm the alarm, making sure the doors and windows down here are shut securely first, then grab my bag and head upstairs in a much more relaxed mood.
I can’t stop yawning lately, good old pregnancy fatigue has been my worst enemy and I can’t even imagine trying to work like this. All I do is sit around, eat, sleep, or have sex. It really is awful when I think about the person I used to be. I know people often talk of baby-brain, but I didn’t think it affected someone this early. Jake has ruined me for the real world and going back to it will be absolute hell. It’s strange, I never imagined I would ever submit to being some pampered billionaire’s girlfriend … fiancée, but Jake is the king of pampering. He really does treat me like his queen.
God, I love that man.
I know it’s temporary though, once this little bundle comes and gets a little older, I have every intention of pursuing a new dream, a new career. I have no reason to live life this way, indefinitely. There is still a huge part of me that wants my own achievements, my own worth proven to myself by myself. I want to leave some worthwhile mark on the world and a legacy for our children. I want to be more than just a billionaire’s wife. I think I owe it to myself.
I get upstairs and pad toward our bedroom, clapping for the lights up here but they don’t come on. I’m stood in complete darkness with little light coming through into the hallway of doors, the moonlight peeking through the bedroom windows of one open door, splashing little slivers of light through but not enough to see much. I kick my shoes off by the top of the stairs and leave them lying there to feel my feet along the ground, trying to find my way while my eyes adjust. I clap louder, trying to remember where the sensors are in case, I’m not close enough.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake!” I snap and clap again, but nothing happens. I haven’t got a clue to where the manual switches are up here. I’m standing in the hall between doors to various rooms and no windows in the hall in front of me. It’s too dark up here to try running my hands around the walls and I’m internally cursing these God forsaken workmen. It’s just my luck to finally have the house done and empty for a stupid fault like this to show up. Jake is going to have to call them back here tomorrow to fix the damn things and I’ll have to endure another day of them invading my space.
Carefully treading my way across the carpet, my palm runs along the smooth walls slowly until I reach the handle of my door and slide my palm round it to grip it. In the room, I know there are switches by the door and at least four lamps, plus, the huge picture window will be allowing the moon to cast some light and I’m sure it’ll be a lot better than standing in a dark hall.
“Don’t fucking breathe.” A harsh heavy growl lashes into my ear, hot breath assaulting my face and the metallic smell makes me gag as I freeze like a stone cold statue; an arm comes around my throat at lightning speed and my mouth is covered cruelly, blocking out my ability to squeal. Everything inside of me thuds with a sickening terror and my blood turns to ice in my veins.
A rough hand crushes my face painfully, bruising my lips against my teeth. I’m pushed forward against the door with force, my body pinned hard and heavy with a thud so that I don’t have any time to react. The solid weight of a big man crushing against me cruelly and restricting my breathing brings sheer fear and consuming panic through my hazy brain. I’m imprisoned with a dead weight and can’t move a single muscle. My feet planted on the floor are pushed far apart with a kick and the disgusting wide body and legs of a man are forced right against me from toe to head. His erection forced up against my ass, making me still and complaint with sheer feint fear. I can sense the aggressive violence pulsing in the air around me, crackling like stars in my vision.
I can’t breathe, or see, or move but I can smell, all my other senses in utter chaos. My heart thudding hard as my hands claw at the wood in front of me, instinctively, looking for anything to grab. But my sense of smell invokes a memory that has my knees trembling and bile lifting from my toes, a cold sweeping wave of panic and realization hitting me hard.
I smell him.
I know him.
I choke on my own terrified tears as it creeps through me.
Ray Vanquis is here with me all alone."
