Spark ( Book 3: Stronger Series )

25. Trust

That night, I gave Darren back his watch, and he presented me with one of my own. A white gold diamond encrusted Rolex to match my cuffs as if they were part of a set. Half the size of Darren's and much lighter, the face was Mother of Pearl, and even the hands had diamonds on them. It was fucking gorgeous, but I'd easily tarnish it within a week.

I was not allowed outside today, but if I could demonstrate my ability to tell time and switch my "activities" every hour, then I'd be granted access to the woods tomorrow, and Darren would accompany me this one time so he could determine if he was comfortable with me being out there alone. I swear it was as if I was a fragile child in his eyes. A helpless child who could shoot guns, ride superbikes at high speeds, and beat the shit out of his guards. Yep, helpless child right here. I rolled my eyes at the thought but didn't argue with him. If it meant a moment away from the chaos that was my life, then I would compromise.

It was beyond difficult and annoying trying to find something new to do every hour. I ate, worked out, showered, and made myself look pretty, played pool, had lunch, watched half a movie, read, painted (begrudgingly), and then went back to my room to build myself a house of cards until dinner.

I was bored out of my fucking skull, yet at times, I just wanted to sit on my chaise or balcony to simply watch the world go by. I had a feeling one of the reasons Darren didn't want me sitting around was so I wouldn't be afforded the opportunity to sulk and drift back into negative thinking. In a way, he was right, but I would be plotting more than sulking.

Observation was my strong suit; attention to detail was crucial as a legal assistant, but I'd perfected it long ago when I was still training for my black belt. And now, trapped here, I'd use it to my advantage. I'd study the rotation of the guards, their shifts, the German Shepherds who followed certain guards on leashes, and the assault rifles they used. The FN SCAR was becoming increasingly popular among the military for an assault rifle, yet Darren's men seemed to have plenty to go around; some were even equipped with damn grenade launchers. It was like they were all prepared to go to war on the estate at any time. I wondered who was supplying Darren with such high-quality firearms, if he had a deal with someone or if he simply manufactured them himself.

Building the house of cards on my little white desk gave me the opportunity to appear focused on something as mundane as stacking cards on top of each other, but I was really building something else entirely—assumptions.

Assuming Darren relied on others to supply his kingdom with weapons, there was a chance that supply could run dry should the right connection become severed. He'd no longer have access to such steel protection, at least not illegally. And I also assumed his supply of ammunition ran the same way, potentially by the same supplier.

I assumed that every jar Darren had his fingers in required a connection, a business arrangement, a contract, and a person. Those persons needed to become targets, misrepresented targets. I needed to figure out a way to collect as much intel on Darren's people as possible, find out their connections, and eliminate their resources. Whether they were financial, social, or even political, every last thread that tied Darren to his resources needed to be severed. I just didn't know how the fuck I was going to accomplish that, considering how discreet Darren was around me.

The only thing that didn't require an assumption was Darren's obsession over me. I didn't get it. I thought I was more trouble than I was worth, but he was obviously confident in his ability to break me in and ensure my obedience. In a way, it was working because I needed him to trust me again. I needed to get him to let down his guard, but I knew that would take years to accomplish, and I didn't know if I had years in me.

Sitting back in my chair to admire my masterpiece, I took a good look at the triple decker card castle, reflecting on each card and how they all held a purpose. They all leaned on each other, and without one, the rest would fall. I somehow doubted Darren's empire resembled the same fragileness of a card house, but like any structure, if the foundation cracked, the whole thing would crumble. A simple flick of the bottom middle card and the entire house fell to a scattered mess in the blink of an eye. I hoped it would be that quick.