Indebted - Piper Stone Page 0,11

husky voice was jarring. I snapped open my eyes, almost gasping for air. As the realization of where I was created a tenuous hold, I was shaken by what I was seeing. The ornate iron gates slowly opening were flanked by massive stone columns, a dense forest on either side. I was still able to see the mountains, but they appeared so much closer, allowing me to catch a glimpse of their snowcapped peaks. How long had I been asleep?

Jefferson gave an approving nod, those same eyes holding no inflection. He drove past the entrance feature, the road winding through a pocket of the most incredible and perfectly aligned trees. A full two minutes later, the estate he’d mentioned came into view.

“Oh, my God.” The whisper tumbled from my mouth before I could stop it. I’d never seen any structure as magnificent as the sprawling three-story home that seemed to follow the rolling landscape almost exactly in line with the bank of rocks and boulders. Water cascaded through the stones, tumbling toward a circular lake. Just beyond there was gorgeous emerald grass, manicured to perfection.

There were at least six chimneys and several outdoor terraces, the dozens of floor-to-ceiling windows only adding to the posh ambiance. In the distance I could see various outbuildings as well as additional acres of rolling green grass, everything surrounded by the mountains. There had to be no less than twenty-five thousand square feet in the main house. Who lived like this?

“Yes, it is impressive, isn’t it?” Jefferson pulled into a four-bay garage, immediately cutting the engine. He wasted no time in escorting me out, his grip on my arm firm as he pulled me toward one of the exterior doors. Before going inside, I was able to catch a glimpse of a more utilitarian-style underground garage facility, a solid ten additional yet less expensive vehicles parked in a neat little row.

A realization hit me. The area was for the hired help.

I had no idea what to expect, but one thing was certain, I would read every single word of the contract over several times.

He led me through the glorious estate, allowing me to catch mere glimpses of the stunning commercial kitchen, a living room larger than the house my father had owned, the setting complete with an eight-foot curved staircase, and the spectacular verandas leading to a series of pools.

He continued walking, moving past beautifully decorated rooms. Living rooms. Family rooms. Game rooms. There was even a second kitchen.

This was like drifting into a fantasy.

Only I knew better.

I’d fallen down a rabbit hole, one with no escape.

I’d spent my entire life longing to be someone else; a movie star or a fairy princess, a fashion model or a famous astronaut. Instead, I’d turned out to be the girl next door with a possible career in finance and a penchant for chocolate and Doritos. There was nothing glamorous about my world. There was only hard work and dedication, requirements my father had instilled from the time I was a child.

Now this.

I couldn’t help but feel a little like Alice in Wonderland.

Only I still felt the chains that had been wrapped around me from the moment I’d been arrested. I would never rid myself of the sickening feeling or the harsh flashing lights that would forever burn into the back of my mind.

“Ms. Toro, you’re under the arrest for attempted murder. Anything you say can be used against you in a court of law.”

The words were all a blur, much like the moments leading up to the horrific event.

“Wait here,” Jefferson commanded, literally pointing to a spot on the floor outside a set of wooden doors, the dark stain just as foreboding as the section of house he’d taken me into. All the furniture I’d seen was leather, coffee and end tables carved from some precious wood. Even the draperies in several of the rooms were oppressive with thick material, as if Mr. Masters wanted nothing more than to block out the light.

I nodded, placing my feet together as I’d been forced to do when positioned in a lineup at the jail. My throat clenched just thinking about the wretched moments behind bars, treated like little more than an animal, every orifice checked for drugs and other paraphernalia.

Then the horrible sound as the steel bars had slid across the track, the door slamming into place.

Cringing, I shifted my feet apart, almost laughing at my ridiculous attempt at defiance.

Jefferson didn’t bother looking at me again before knocking once