Page 21 of His Dark Pact

“Yes.” She glanced around the space again. “I’m ready.”

“You’re in apartment number five, right?”

“That’s right.” She’d have to return to collect the boxes, but she could manage the bags in one fell swoop.

She couldn’t say her time at the place had been happy. She’d arrived without fanfare, having downsized due to financial restrictions, but she’d never envisioned having to leave because she couldn’t afford to pay the rent. She never believed things could get that bad.

“Knock, knock.” Kyle’s words reverberated in her ear at the exact moment two strikes landed on the door.

She jumped, realizing she’d mentioned her apartment number on the way over, and he’d taken it upon himself to turn up at her door. Heart pounding, she hoped he’d still have a car outside when they returned. To say vehicles like Kyle’s, complete with their own drivers, were not commonplace in her neighborhood was an understatement.

Unlocking the door, she pulled it open to find the charismatic Kyle waiting in the hall. He lowered his phone, his gaze glinting as she did the same.

“You didn’t have to come up here.” Straining her neck to meet his eyes, she marveled at how tall the guy was. Had she noticed his immense height before? She couldn’t remember.

“I’m here to help.” He motioned to her duffel. “You must have more than one bag.”

“Thanks.” She dropped the duffel to the ground and turned. “I have a couple of boxes.”

He scanned the place that had been her home, as though he’d expected more. She wasn’t sure why. She’d been scarily honest with him.

“Is that all?”

It was strange to see him in the context of her shrinking life. Everything about him spoke of wealth and class, and he looked absurdly out of place in her crappy rental.

“That’s all,” she confirmed.

A tinge of the shame that had enveloped so much of her recent life ebbed at her insides because thatwasall. Two boxes and two duffel bags were all she had. There was nothing else to show for nearly fifty years on the planet.

“This shouldn’t take too long.” He smiled, a gesture she was sure was supposed to reassure her. Oddly, it seemed to work, her lingering anxiety quelling as he moved to collect the first box.

“Careful,” she warned as he crouched. “It’s full of kitchenware and could be heavy.”

“I’ll be fine, Amy.” Reaching for the box, he lifted it and spun to face her. “Let’s get this to the car.”

His cool demeanor should have been aggravating, or at least, his tone might have patronized. She’d been around too long to be mansplained by anyone, let alone by her potential new boss—but watching him carry the box past her with apparent ease, she was mesmerized.

William Kyle had crashed into her life, and in the course of only a couple of days, he’d altered things. She’d opened up to him—a complete stranger—about debts she hadn’t even conveyed to her sons. She’d allowed herself to be vulnerable, and in return, he’d reached out with more than only an olive branch. Kyle’s offer—even if she only survived the trial—had the potential to transform her entire existence. Whatever happened with the new role, her instincts were right—she had to accept and welcome the change it would bring.

She followed him down the dark stairwell to his waiting car, the rising wind almost knocking her from her feet. Handing the box and bag over to his driver, Stevens, an inoffensive little man with a graying mustache, she noticed other local residents assembling on the street corner, presumably eager to see who owned the expensive vehicle. She ignored their inquiring gazes and the one idiot who hurled abuse their way as she dashed back to the entrance, but the tension inside her ratcheted with every new step. It would be a relief to leave the place.

“We’ll be ready in a couple of minutes,” Kyle told Stevens as he cast a suspicious eye over the neighborhood. “Keep the engine running.”

“Yes, sir.”

Stevens’ reply was nearly lost to a gust of wind as Kyle’s left hand moved to Amy’s lower back and steered her back inside. They climbed the steps, heading across the hallway to take her remaining things from the apartment. Standing on the threshold, she took one final look at the glum chapter of her life.

“Ready to start working for me?” Kyle’s eyebrow cocked as he presented her with the easiest conundrum in the world.

“Yes, sir.” She feigned a salute, the gesture covering up any awkwardness she felt about using the term.

Amy was more than ready.