Billionaires in New York Boxed Set: Billionaires in the City Books 1-3 Laura Burton (books to read this summer .TXT) 📖

“Edward.” Catherine’s grave voice prompted Edward to turn back. His eyes lingered on Catherine, who picked up a brick with a note taped to it. She held it out with a shaking hand and looked at him with so much devastation, Edward wanted to scoop her up in his arms and take her away from this nightmare.

“What does it say, I can barely read the writing.”

Catherine cleared her throat and looked at the note again.

“It says, ‘If I can’t have you. No one can.’”

Chapter Seventeen

Chasing Dreams and Running from Demons

Catherine’s stomach lurched and suddenly the morning pancakes were threatening to make a reappearance. Sweat formed across her brow as she stared at the brick in her hand.

“Right. Pack a bag, I’m taking you out of here,” Edward said, pulling out his phone. Catherine dropped the brick to the carpet and took slow deep breaths, in a vain attempt to calm the rising nausea from her stomach.

“Is that supposed to be a death threat?” she asked weakly. Edward didn’t respond but looked grim as he lifted the phone to his ear.

“Jerry, I’m sending you an address. Have your team meet me there in an hour.” His voice trailed off as Catherine staggered down the hall to her bedroom. She muttered to herself as she dragged a bag out from under her bed and threw it open.

What am I packing for? A weekend? A week? Forever?

Thankfully, a pile of freshly laundered clothes lay on a fabric chair by the window, waiting to be folded. She rolled everything up and stuffed it into her bag, expertly fitting her socks into her boots. Within minutes, she had a fully packed bag, bursting at the seams. Had she remembered to pack all of her essentials? She wasn’t sure. Was it likely she had forgotten her hairbrush? Absolutely. But this was an emergency. Calvin just threw a brick through her window. It had barely missed Edward’s head. Did Calvin plan to miss? Or did he genuinely want to hurt Edward? The thought made Catherine sick to her stomach. Now she had a broken front window and her apartment had become a crime scene. She needed to get out. By the sound of Edward’s steady voice from the other room, he seemed to have a plan. She rolled her bag across the hall and returned to the kitchen to find Edward stooped over the breakfast bar, his right hand rubbing the back of his neck until his skin was red raw.

“I know, I know. But this is an emergency. Forget about the deal. I already told you, I don’t care anymore,” he said in a hushed voice. Catherine cleared her throat and Edward turned back to face her with surprise. “I’ve got to go. I’ll call you later,” he said quickly and ended the call. “That was fast,” he said charging forward with his hand stretched out to take her bag.

“Thank you,” Catherine said, shaken as he took the handle. Catherine picked up her keys from the counter and scratched her temple in thought. “What deal?”

Edward’s head snapped up, and he looked at her with fake innocence.

“Huh? Oh, don’t worry about it.” He waved a hand aside and gestured for her to follow him. “And don’t worry about your window, I’ve already called someone to come and fix it.” They hurried out of the apartment and Catherine fumbled with her keys in the lock as Edward descended the steps with her luggage.

“Good thing I drove here,” Edward shouted up to her as the lock clicked. She dropped her keys in her purse and looked out to see Edward stuffing her bag in the trunk of a red Thunderbird. “Come on, let’s get you out of here.” He closed the trunk and held out his hand for her. Catherine took it, looking warily around. Clusters of onlookers were standing by and muttering to each other; some even had their phones out. Presumably taking photos of the broken window. Edward coaxed her into the car and closed the door as she fastened her seatbelt. She rubbed her clammy hands on her pant legs and did yoga breaths, trying not to let panic take over.

Everything will be fine. You’re safe.

She repeated the mantra as Edward got in and started the car. There was a thunderous roar as the engine came to life and the sound sent Catherine’s heart racing. This car had power. Her whole seat vibrated as it idled. Edward tapped her knee and gave her a reassuring smile.

“I’m taking you to my place, and we’ll sort this out, okay?” He pulled away and drove the car as if they were on a race track: overtaking traffic, using the racing line around bends. Catherine half expected to see a line of police cars behind them and a helicopter in the sky.

“Hold on,” Edward said gruffly, stomping on one of the pedals. The car maintained speed and he jerked the wheel left and right, weaving in and out of traffic.

“Hey, watch out!” Catherine gripped the bottom of her seat, as Edward sped through a red light and narrowly missed a car transporter. The resounding drone that followed rang like a hollow bell in Catherine’s ears. A Mercedes collided into the back of a Chevvy, as the car darted across the oncoming traffic.

Yellow and blue lights flashed in the corner of Catherine’s eye as the familiar squeal of a siren filled the air. Yet, Edward did not slow down.

“Are you crazy? Pull over.”

Catherine looked at Edward, drips of sweat clung to his temples as he puffed, and his foot pumped the pedal as if he was trying to blow up an inflatable bed. With a shake of his head and his eyes darting to the mirror, he jerked the wheel and the car swung into a side street. The tires screeched and the stench of burning rubber flooded Catherine’s nostrils. She watched the side mirror to see not one, but two cops were on their tail now.

“Can’t you slow down?”

Edward