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The Ruby Shackle: Bound To The Billionaire
img img The Ruby Shackle: Bound To The Billionaire img Chapter 2 2
2 Chapters
Chapter 9 9 img
Chapter 10 10 img
Chapter 11 11 img
Chapter 12 12 img
Chapter 13 13 img
Chapter 14 14 img
Chapter 15 15 img
Chapter 16 16 img
Chapter 17 17 img
Chapter 18 18 img
Chapter 19 19 img
Chapter 20 20 img
Chapter 21 21 img
Chapter 22 22 img
Chapter 23 23 img
Chapter 24 24 img
Chapter 25 25 img
Chapter 26 26 img
Chapter 27 27 img
Chapter 28 28 img
Chapter 29 29 img
Chapter 30 30 img
Chapter 31 31 img
Chapter 32 32 img
Chapter 33 33 img
Chapter 34 34 img
Chapter 35 35 img
Chapter 36 36 img
Chapter 37 37 img
Chapter 38 38 img
Chapter 39 39 img
Chapter 40 40 img
Chapter 41 41 img
Chapter 42 42 img
Chapter 43 43 img
Chapter 44 44 img
Chapter 45 45 img
Chapter 46 46 img
Chapter 47 47 img
Chapter 48 48 img
Chapter 49 49 img
Chapter 50 50 img
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Chapter 2 2

Audie sprinted down the second-floor corridor. The marble was cold under her bare feet. She clutched the ball of her cheap dress against her chest, Basil's oversized shirt billowing around her thighs.

She paused at the corner, using the reflection in a gilded oil painting to check the hall. Clear.

She turned the corner.

"Miss Wilcox?"

The voice was sharp. Precise.

Audie spun around. Corine Morrow stood in the shadows of the alcove, wearing a silk robe that cost more than Audie's entire cover identity. As Basil's stepsister and the co-trustee of his estate, Corine's perfectly coiffed grey hair and laser-like gaze were a more constant threat than Basil's mercurial moods.

Audie gasped, clutching the bundled dress higher to cover the fact that she was wearing her stepbrother's shirt.

Corine's eyes were like lasers. They swept over Audie's disheveled hair, the bare legs, and landed on the dress in her hands.

There was a dark, wet stain on the fabric.

It was whiskey. Basil had spilled it when his hand shook.

Corine stepped closer. Her nose wrinkled. "Is that... alcohol?"

If Corine knew Basil was drinking, she'd up his medication. She'd lock him down tighter. Audie would lose her access.

Audie shook her head frantically, her face burning red. She couldn't risk speaking, couldn't risk her voice betraying the lie she was about to construct. "No, ma'am," Audie stammered, forcing the words out as if they were stones in her throat. "It's... it's BBQ sauce."

Corine raised an eyebrow. "I beg your pardon?"

"The... date," Audie whispered, her gaze fixed on her own bare feet. "I was nervous. I squeezed the burger too hard. The sauce... it went everywhere. It was so embarrassing. That's why I came back through the side door. I didn't want anyone to smell me."

She held the dress out slightly. The smell of the cheap, fruity shampoo Audie used wafted up, masking the faint note of scotch.

Corine stared at her. Disgust curled her lip. It was the look one gave to a dog that had rolled in mud.

"BBQ sauce," Corine repeated. "How... quaint."

"I'm sorry, Mrs. Morrow. I'll wash it immediately."

"See that you do. And Miss Wilcox?"

"Yes, ma'am?"

"Has my stepbrother been... difficult tonight? I heard noises from the library."

It was a trap. Corine was fishing.

Audie shrank into herself. "He yelled at me, ma'am," she mumbled, the lie tasting like ash. "He said I didn't dust the shelves properly. He threw a book."

Corine relaxed. This fit her narrative. Basil was unstable. Basil needed her control.

"Go to bed, child. And try to elevate your standards. You represent this house now."

"Yes, ma'am."

Audie scurried away, forcing herself to trip over her own feet near the stairs. She heard Corine sigh.

She reached her room in the servants' quarters. It was small, windowless. She locked the door and went straight to the bathroom sink.

She threw the dress in and poured bleach over the stain. She scrubbed until her knuckles were raw.

She looked in the mirror. The frightened girl was gone. The Auditor stared back.

She reached behind the toilet tank and pulled out a waterproof bag. Inside was a micro-tablet.

She booted it up. Her fingers flew across the screen.

Target: Basil Dean. Financials.

There were small, erratic movements in the offshore accounts. Tiny transfers that looked like errors. But to Audie, they were a pattern. He wasn't just drinking in that safe room. He was moving capital.

He was building a war chest.

Outside, a dog barked. Duchess. Basil's Doberman.

Audie shut down the tablet and hid it. She lay on the narrow bed, staring at the ceiling. Basil Dean wasn't just a paranoid recluse. He was planning a coup.

And she was standing right in the blast zone.

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