She hoped another move wouldn’t set her back.
She rubbed her hand over the ache in her chest. She might be leaving, but she didn’t know yet where she was going. She couldn’t return to her apartment in the city. She’d broken the lease there when she’d left to escape the paparazzi. It was going to take time to find another place she could afford where she could have some semblance of privacy. If she didn’t finish her work on time, her PhD would be in jeopardy. That would affect her job offers and her ability to pay off her student loans.
She blew out a long breath. It was circular thoughts like this that had kept her up all night. She scowled towards the main house. And that was his fault. Her life was in turmoil again, all because an over-indulged rich man had charmed the legal system into going easy on him.
She found nothing charming about the situation whatsoever.
Wiping her hands, she turned back towards the lake house. She flinched when she heard someone coming down the hard-packed dirt drive. The footsteps were clipped and precise and heading straight for her. With the lid of the trunk lifted, she couldn’t see who was approaching but she had a good guess.
She braced herself.
‘Ms Elena?’
Her spine relaxed. ‘Leonard.’
The butler came to an abrupt stop near the taillights of the car. A frown settled on his face when he saw her half-filled trunk, and the expression deepened the age lines around his mouth. ‘You’re leaving?’
She gave him a sad look. ‘It’s time. I appreciate the hospitality you’ve shown me these past few weeks, but I can’t be a burden any longer.’
‘You aren’t a burden.’ He folded his hands together primly, but she could see how tightly he held them. ‘There’s no need for you to go.’
‘We both know there is.’ She nodded towards the second-floor balcony of the manor. It was empty now. It had been empty every time she’d checked it since she’d caught his intimidating boss watching her from that perch.
He followed her wary look. ‘Yes, Master Wolfe is home, but that doesn’t mean you have to leave. He gave his permission yesterday eve for you to be on the property.’
Elena regarded her old friend. She was sure that permission had come at a cost, but had it been for him? Or would she be paying? ‘That’s a kind gesture, but I can’t accept.’
She wouldn’t take charity from a Wolfe. She couldn’t stomach it, and she couldn’t trust it.
‘At least stay until your studies are complete. It would be a shame to throw everything into a tizzy when you’re so close to getting your degree.’
A tizzy.
Elena nearly laughed. Wasn’t everything in a tizzy already? Alex Wolfe had shown up on his doorstep when she’d expected him to be in a prison cell for another six months. She’d never dreamed he’d be walking around a free man. Or that he’d be watching her … ‘I’m not comfortable here any more, Leonard. You’ve got to understand.’
‘I do understand, dear, but I think it would be more uncomfortable for you outside the manor’s gates.’ Those hands that he kept so tightly clenched together finally separated, and one waved up the road. ‘They’re already here, Elena.’
They. She didn’t need more description than that.
The media.
Her head whipped around. From her vantage point down by the lake, she couldn’t see any difference. She wouldn’t have been able to tell anything was amiss from the manor either. The drive from the main gate was a good quarter of a mile long and lined by trees, yet she could picture the news vans parked along the shoulder of the main road. She envisioned their antennas lifted and all the reporters milling about. She was well acquainted with the scene, because the same thing had happened outside her apartment in New York.
‘You’re safer here,’ Leonard insisted. ‘The gate will hold them out and their cameras won’t be of any use with the woods blocking their view.’
But they would try. Tension grabbed the muscles between her shoulder blades. Like hungry rats, the news outlets would swarm the place. They’d scurry around looking for openings and bits of tasty info.
‘That won’t stop them,’ she said.
‘If they trespass, the Bedford police will respond. They’ve already been notified.’
So the police would drop everything to respond to a call from an ex-con, but they hadn’t done anything when she’d called them for help. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides. At its worst, she hadn’t been able to set foot outside her building without reporters and cameramen harassing her. One had even grabbed her in the stairwell, putting his hands on her and trying to stop her for an interview. Who knew that a pothead on the third floor would be more helpful than the NYPD?
The tension between her shoulder blades crawled up her neck. She didn’t want to go back to living like that. After that incident, she hadn’t been able to leave her apartment without fear. She’d been trapped inside, as much a prisoner as Alex Wolfe, only he’d had a trial.
‘How many are out there?’ she asked. Maybe she could just zip through.
‘Too many. The sheriff is already having to deal with the congestion. They’ve set up outside the main gate and down the road. You’d have to drive right through them.’
Elena looked at her white Malibu. It was nondescript, but on Wolfe property that made it stick out like a sore thumb. Even if she put on a scarf and sunglasses, they’d track down her licence plates before she made it to Bedford.
The thought made her queasy. They couldn’t catch her here. Not with him.
The tension swept outwards through her entire body. The tabloids would explode if they caught wind that she’d been a guest. The Bardot and Wolfe names were already twined in a sick, unbreakable knot. If they somehow put her and the younger Wolfe together?
She braced her hand against her car. Oh, God.
‘They don’t know you’re here. At least, not yet.’ Even Leonard’s hands were twisting together now, all semblance of composure gone. ‘It’s a big place. The grounds and the house are such that you wouldn’t have to interact with Master Wolfe if you don’t want to, although I think the two of you should commiserate. The press have villainised him even more than they have you.’
That’s because the man was a villain. Her only failing was genetic. She’d been born the daughter of a man without a conscience.
She turned towards the lake. No jewels gleamed from its surface today. If anything, the view was haunting. A morning fog clung to the low-lying regions. The mist hovered over the water like vapour rising off a cup of hot coffee, while trails of it wove through the trees.
It was as if even the grounds knew that the darkness had returned.
She let out a tight breath.
Would the situation outside the gates be even worse? It would be harsher, she knew. Inside the gates, there was quiet. Seclusion, even if it was in the belly of the monster.
‘Maybe I can leave late tonight,’ she murmured, fighting the decision she knew she had to make.
‘They’ll be here around the clock until they get what they want. You know that, and those individuals assigned to late-night hours will be even hungrier.’
Hungry for the illusive big ‘get’, only she had nothing to tell them. She hadn’t been involved. She didn’t know where the money had gone. She looked at those leaves still