Chill Read Free

have,” Isabella said.
    Leon looked her way and winked, and she waved back. His gaze flickered to her throat, and his face became utterly unreadable when he noticed the necklace she was wearing. Frowning, she turned back toward Roseann. “Marcus takes care of me. He keeps me safe.” From poverty. From being alone. From the ugliness her life would have been without him.
    Roseann shook her head in dismay. “Oh, Isa, the last thing Marcus does is keep you safe.”
    “Roseann!” The head of the kitchen staff, Opal Mascow, glared at Roseann from the doorway of the kitchen. Her black hair was pulled back so tightly she looked as if she were being tortured, and her thick hands were clenched by her sides.
    “Gotta go.” Roseann threw her arms around Isabella and clung to her. “I love you, Isa. I’ll miss you so much.”
    Isabella bit her lip to hold back the tears. “I love you, too.”
    Roseann released her and ran for the kitchen, without looking back.
    Isabella stared after her friend, grief welling in her chest. God, how could she let Roseann go? Roseann was like a sister. What if she went to Florida with Roseann? But the thought made her chest hurt. This was her home, the only place she was secure enough to believe she would never lose her place—
    “Isabella.”
    Oh, God. It was time.

C HAPTER T WO
    She stiffened her spine as Marcus walked up to her. She brushed her hand across her cheeks to wipe off any evidence of the near tears. Marcus abhorred weakness, and tears at his birthday party would infuriate him. “Happy birthday, Marcus.”
    “Thank you.” He didn’t smile, but he brushed his lips politely past her cheek, not quite touching. He never touched her. Ever.
    With his jet-black hair, he was absolutely riveting in his tuxedo. His jaw was hard, his body lean, his eyes a vibrant blue, his posture erect. Marcus Fie resonated with wealth and power, with a ruthlessness that made people crumple before him. A few strands of silver at his temples were his only concession to age.
    He nodded at the necklace dangling between her breasts. “I’m glad you’re wearing that.”
    The jewelry had arrived at the office earlier in the day, and Isabella hadn’t had time to research it. Marcus had told her to wear it tonight, so she had. It had a large red stone in it, probably a ruby, and it was set in a swirl of gold tendrils cradling dozens of smaller stones of assorted brilliant colors, mixed with dozens of large diamonds. She was very curious as to its origin, and she was itching to have some time to research it. It was rarefor Marcus to go public with any of his acquisitions, and she wondered what was so special about this one to have prompted its display.
    Then his eyes narrowed as they fell on her other necklace. “I told you not to wear that tonight. It’s not appropriate for someone on my staff.”
    Isabella stiffened as she automatically covered her jewelry with her hand. The small turquoise pendant encased in engraved silver was battered and scratched from three generations of wear. It was the only thing she had left from her mother, and she hadn’t taken it off since she was seventeen. Not even for Marcus. “Yes, you did, but you know how I feel about it.”
    He gave her a hard look. “Let go of the past, Isabella. You aren’t the girl you were when you came here.” He gestured at it. “That’s not you anymore.”
    Her fingers clamped protectively over it, and she took a step backward.
    His face immediately softened. “Hell, Isabella, don’t give me that look. I’m not going to forcibly remove it from your neck. Keep the damn thing if it makes you happy.” His blue eyes filled with the affection she was accustomed to seeing when he interacted with her. “I forget how emotional you are sometimes,” he said.
    She knew he was thinking about the time he’d had the photo of her mother taken out of its original frame and reframed in a beautiful, expensive setting that had wrenched her heart from