Rebekkah's POV.
“You’re not going back to the penthouse, Rebekah,” Derek said, his voice as flat as a dial tone.
He didn't look at me as he took the turn on two wheels, the tires of the SUV screaming against the pavement. He was driving like a man who knew exactly who was behind us, even if I couldn't see them yet. I gripped the door handle so hard my knuckles felt like they were going to burst through my skin.
“Derek, Michael is going to lose his mind,” I said, my heart hammering against my ribs. “He has a dinner with the board tonight. He expects me to be there in that green dress. He’s going to call the police.”
Derek’s eyes shifted to the rearview mirror, sharp and focused. “Let him call them. By the time they track this car’s GPS, we’ll be long gone. Michael thinks he can protect
