Dara stepped blindly out of the courthouse building. Her eyes glistened with the sheen of tears she refused to shed. They were not about the path she was about to embark upon. No, they were a sentimental reaction to the end of a portion of her life that had been her sole reason for being over the past four years.
With quick angry movements she wiped her eyes. She could not – would not – begin this new phase of her life feeling anything but determination to succeed.
Her steps faltered as she came to the place where she’d parked her sport utility vehicle. The empty place where she had parked her vehicle. . .
The low hum of efficient machinery eased up right behind her, startling Dara from her astonishment over the missing vehicle. She whirled around just in time to see a black-suited chauffeur exit the car and open the back door of a massive limousine. “This way, Miss,” he directed her, indicating the back seat of the limousine.
“Where is my car?”
The stoic driver met Dara’s glare head-on. “Master Cassadine has arranged for it to be garaged. From this point on I have been instructed to transport you wherever you should desire to go.”
Even without the slight accent the man had, Dara would have recognized Stefan Cassadine’s touch in the matter at hand. No one else would have been so arrogant.
“Take me home.” Dara did not bother to give the chauffeur directions there. She had no doubt that he was already familiar with certain details of her personal life.
In the plush back seat of the limousine Dara sat and fumed. It did not matter what his intentions were. As soon as the driver dropped her off at her house, Stefan Cassadine would be receiving a very angry call from her.
Guaranteed.
