18
AYLEE
“You have a beautiful home,” I told Drake. The paintings on the hallway walls were absolutely breathtaking, no doubt the taste of his wife or an interior designer. It made me wonder where his wife was this evening.
“Thank you. The years have been good to me,” he replied with pride. He was actually a good looking man with his coiffed brown hair and hazel eyes, dressed in his expensive suits. On the inside was where he was a disgusting rat bastard.
I turned my head, rolling my eyes. “I see that.” At least my purse was ten pounds heavier—compensation for risking my life. “Where are you taking me?” I followed him up the steps to another hallway, where he opened one of the doors and ushered me inside.
“My bedroom, beautiful. You must keep Avery a happy man for him to keep you arou
