never came home. Chloe was a ghost in its halls
y, she couldn't
ients from the massive stainless-steel refrigerator. She would cook for
ty Tucker, hovered nervously. "Mrs. Irw
d with concern. "Madam, Mr. Irwin's orders wer
e sliced vegetables. She seared a perfect, thick-cut steak and arran
ner in hand. As expected, two guards
said, her
idn't
rned, feigning defeat, and carried the container towa
crets. Behind the main greenhouse, where a thick growth of ivy covered the stone wall, t
awn, her dress catching on a rosebush. She found the loose section of the wroug
car, pressing a wad of cash into the sta
rk downpour began, the rain hammering against the car's roof. Chloe clutched the w
up in front of the glittering gla
container with her body as she dashed through the
revolving doors, when two men in black
, holding a large black umbrella. He looked at her, soa
nd you crossed the fence, Mrs. Irwin,"
the underground garage, its tires squealing on the
door fl
ly plastered his dark hair to his skull and soaked his expensive suit, but he didn'
away. The realization hit h
ed her lips. She held up the con
ed around her wrist like a vise, the pressure so intens
p agony made her
ontainer slippe
spilling the perfectly cooked steak and salad onto the ground. The food
e offering, her heart shatterin
ess on the ground. But the flicker of confusion was
her toward the open
/1/120151/coverbig.jpg?v=139a7a91ac8db66430e72c1d290e4198&imageMogr2/format/webp)