Chapter 1343
Richard Huber stormed through the front yard, his face thunderous with anger.
The family mausoleum.
The security guards were still at their post by the door. When they spotted Richard and his entourage approaching, they immediately froze, panic written all over their faces.
One of them actually tried to make a run for the mausoleum, probably hoping to warn the people inside.
Richard noticed the move right away and shouted, “Hey, you! Stop right there p>
The guard froze mid-step, rooted to the spot.
Richard marched up, his tone sharp. “What are you so jumpy about p>
The guard trembled, staring at his shoes. “Sir p>
The mausoleum didn’t even have a back door-there was no way for Winona Newsom to slip out. Of course the guards were nervous.
Richard had given strict orders: nobody was to set foot inside to see Keaton Huber. If they let anyone in, they’d be in deep trouble.
On top of that, they’d promised Ms. Newsom they’d alert her at the slightest sign of trouble.
And now, here they were p>
Richard’s eyes narrowed. He barked, “Well? Speak up! What the hell is that troublemaker doing in there now p>
No one answered. Richard’s scowl deepened as he strode into the mausoleum courtyard.
Janelle, picking up on the tension, didn’t bother questioning the guards. She hurried after him.
Inside, Winona heard the commotion. She scrambled to the window, peering out -and nearly had a heart attack.
Richard was already through the front gates, his posse right behind him, heading straight for her.
In an instant, Winona sobered up, adrenaline chasing away her tipsy haze.
She smacked Keaton hard on the arm to jolt him awake. “Your parents are coming! With a crowd! How am I supposed to get out of here p>
It was the middle of the night, and here she was-alone in a room with Keaton. If anyone caught them, the gossip would be brutal, no matter what actually happened.
And with Mrs. Windham and Mrs.
Mrs
Murphy in tow? Those two weren’t bad people, but their mouths ran faster than a horse at the Kentucky Derby As soon as they left, the whole neighborhood would hear about it.
She could handle a little scandal herself she was used to rumors, being a semi- celebrity and all.
But her parents? They wouldn’t
e2
survive the shame. Ever since the Zane Livingston fiasco, the Newsom family had been the butt of every joke in the country club circuit.
Keaton was still in a daze. He hadn’t expected his dad to show up at this hour, much less with a whole squad.
let
While he was trying to process, Winona sprang into action. She stuffed the remains of their takeout behind an old memorial plaque and kicked the empty wine bottles under the rickety cot.
But there was no way to hide herself-she was a whole person, not a pizza box.
The mausoleum didn’t have any bright lights, but even the flickering candles couldn’t hide a breathing, panicked woman.
Footsteps were getting closer. Winona’s heart was pounding so loud she thought everyone could hear it.
She hissed, “Is there a back door p>
Keaton snapped out of it. “No, but why are you freaking out? My dad’s not going to do anything to you p>
Winona didn’t even bother to explain. She smacked him again, harder this time. “Stop babbling! Help me hide, now p>
Keaton’s eyes widened-no woman had ever dared hit him before. But seeing how desperate she was, he let it slide.
“There’s nowhere to hide a person in here… Wait, get on the bed. Quick p>
Winona shot him a look. “You want me to hide in bed with you? If we get caught, it’ll look even worse p>
“They won’t catch us. Come on, do you want to hide or not? Sometimes you gotta break a few rules p>
The footsteps were right outside the door now. Winona gritted her teeth, grabbed her purse, and dove under the covers, pressing herself against the wall.
The cot was barely big enough for one adult, let alone two. They were jammed in like sardines.
In her rush, Winona accidentally bumped Keaton’s injured side. He let out a strangled yelp, cold sweat breaking out on his forehead.
She was about to whisper an apology when the door burst open and the whole group came crashing in.