deep, controlled voice made so
she was. Which meant thi
he demanded. "Wh
at her. He addressed the front of t
ror. "Ms. Koch. My name is Reid Foster. This is my employer, Mr. Grant C
ackage. The clinical t
name meant nothing. "I don't k
ze unwavering. "I didn't help you," he said,
ered. "A debt? I've never
d the raw, red scrapes on her palms. "Not a monetary debt,"
her speechless. She searched her mem
t under
never m
back to the window. An impenetrab
ilence. The Bentley finally glided to a stop in front
instant, opening her door. "You have
e. She scrambled out of the c
tending to demand an explan
got back into the car, and the Bentley pulled away, i
reet in a rumpled evening gown, with no money
building's ornate canopy, she walked over. "Excuse me,
her distress, reluct
e frantic. "Ana! Oh my God, are you okay? Th
r now." She quickly recounted the bizarre events-Reid F
her voice suddenly sharp. "Wh
rlisle,"
ilence on the othe
? Are yo
r tone a mixture of awe and disbelie
o you kn
ing you the address and the keypad code to my place in the Villa
reaction only de
up at the impassive face of the luxury building, then
ing, who claimed she had saved his life, and who had
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