Ella didn’t hesitate. She pulled the door open and slid into the leather interior. The smell of the car was different from the street—old tobacco and expensive cologne.
"There’s a condition," Julian said.
She wasn't supposed to be here. She was supposed to be at a charity gala in Kensington, wearing silk and smiling politely at men in bad suits. Instead, she had slipped out the service exit, ditched her security detail, and taken a black cab to the East End. ella hughes out of town