Read Online The Bodyguard by Lena Diaz - Free Book Online Page B

on. Your time is best spent performing your duties. Betsy, will you please arrange for my belongings to be moved out of the master suite into the main guest bedroom?”
    Betsy looked from Leslie to Caroline. “I, um... Ma’am, why would you want me to do that?”
    Caroline fisted her hands at her sides. She shouldn’t have to explain to this woman who’d treated her as if she didn’t exist for the past five years that her husband had repeatedly beaten and raped her in the master bedroom and she would never, ever step foot in that hated room again.
    “If you have a problem following my orders, then I suggest you look for employment elsewhere.” She looked in turn at all four women, who were huddled together as if they thought she was crazy. “That goes for all of you. Things are going to change, starting today. I refuse to be invisible in my own home any longer. I’m your employer. If you can’t live with that, you are welcome to leave.”
    She brushed past the women, her shoulders straight and her head held high, pretending a confidence she was far from feeling. She stepped through the nearest doorway, then abruptly stopped and pressed her hand to her throat. The enormous wood-paneled room at the front of the house looked out over the circular driveway. The view was unfamiliar because she’d only caught glimpses of it before. This was Richard’s office, a room he’d forbidden her to enter. She could look through the doorway, on those occasions when her husband needed to speak to her, but she could never step inside. She turned around, intending to leave, but Leslie and the others were in the foyer staring at her.
    She straightened her spine. “Leslie, are you coming or not?”
    “Um, yes, of course.” She clutched her purse and followed Caroline into the room.
    Caroline raised a brow at the women in the foyer.
    They scurried away, like chickens running from a fox. She grinned, pleased with the image. It was nice to be the fox for a change, instead of the chicken. She shut the door with a decisive click.
    Her smile died when she saw the look on Leslie’s face. “What? Did I do something wrong?”
    Leslie set her purse on a decorative table and sat on the couch in the grouping at one end of the room. A massive walnut desk sat on the other side, next to the wall of windows. Caroline steered clear of the desk and sat in one of the leather wing chairs beside the couch.
    “Not wrong, exactly,” Leslie said. “I just don’t think you should bait the staff and talk about changes so quickly after Richard was killed. You’re still on the potential-suspect list. We wouldn’t want anyone to get the idea you were glad Richard is dead.”
    “Is that what you think? That I’m glad he’s dead?”
    “Aren’t you?”
    She thought back to Alex’s warning to keep everything the same as much as possible, to flush out anyone who might act out of the ordinary. But in spite of his recommendations, she couldn’t pretend to be sorry. She was tired of being invisible in her own house.
    “I’m glad I don’t have to be afraid anymore. That’s what I’m glad about. But I would never take comfort in someone’s death, not even Richard’s.”
    “Admirable of you, my dear. Just be careful not to give anyone the wrong impression.”
    Caroline bit her lip. “I suppose I did come on a bit strong.” She shook her head. “No. I’m not sorry I took charge. I’ve been living like a turtle afraid of its own shell for too long. I’m determined not to live that way anymore. I’ve been given a second chance. I’m not going to waste a single minute of it.”
    She crossed to Richard’s most prized possession, his sacred desk. She plopped down in the leather chair that practically swallowed her up and crossed her arms on top of the meticulously polished surface. Unable to suppress a childish urge, she pressed her palm against the dark wood, leaving a smeared print.
    Leslie’s brows rose and she crossed to sit in one of the