Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
My heart raced, and I stumbled another step backward. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
Logan’s expression darkened as he tucked a stack of cash into the interior pocket of his suit jacket. “That’s where you’re wrong.”
Jarek shoved from his chair, his voice a haggard accusation as he sputtered, “That game was fixed. This was a fucking setup. There is no way he had a straight flush. It’s not possible, and everyone here knows it. I’m leaving…with my wife.”
Haille Manchief chuckled as he took in the exchange.
Clearly, it was the ulterior games the man was interested in. The carnage and the aftermath.
I’d made it my business to listen, and yesterday, I’d overheard Jarek talking with his bookie that Haille was the one to see if he needed to earn big and quick.
It hadn’t gone as he’d planned.
Jarek grabbed me by the elbow. Was it wrong I wanted to punch him in the face? This was his fault. He’d gotten himself into this mess, the details obscured, but I’d heard the rumblings.
Had felt his unease.
A desperation that had underscored his already slimy demeanor.
But these were the types of perilous situations by which he lived.
A rumble of discomfited laughter and quiet speculation floated through the room, and my nerves rushed beneath the surface of my skin as I witnessed the raw amusement in Haille’s eyes and the cold caution that ridged the guard who’d led us downstairs.
“We honor our bets when we sit at this table, Mr. Urso,” Haille warned in a low voice.
Jarek looked like he was going to snap when he glared at the man.
The rest of the players might have found this entertaining, but from a young age, I’d known that in the end it was always blood on the line.
I wrangled out of Jarek’s hold and backed away.
“I’m not going anywhere with either of you.” The revulsion and sickness I’d carried for years spewed from my mouth as my attention swung between him and Logan.
I was done. So done. Let the pieces fall where they may, but I was finished being a pawn.
Before anyone could stop me, I turned and ran upstairs, my heels clacking on the wooden steps as I went. I fisted the slippery material of the skirt of my dress to keep myself from tripping over its length.
Hitting the top landing, I flew as fast as five-inch heels would take me, racing across the warmth of the fire-laden room, the flickers of flames that burned from the hearth casting a fake comfort on the house that was nothing but a viper’s den.
Footsteps pounded behind me.
Jarek.
He reached me just as I made it to the coat rack in the foyer. He snatched me by the wrist.
Hard enough the sting of it spiked on my skin.
Or maybe it was only the hatred I felt for him.
Whirling around, I tried to yank myself free. “Let me go.”
He tightened his hold, nails digging into my flesh, but it was his voice that penetrated like a spear. “Let you go? You’re my wife, and you’re leaving with me. Right now.”
I struggled to get free. “I said to let me go.”
When I didn’t give in, he shoved me against the wall, his foul being looming over me. “Make me look like a fool and see what happens, Aster. I’m warning you now.”
“And if you don’t remove your hands from my prize, tomorrow, you no longer exist.” The ice in Logan’s words froze the air.
Jarek stilled, and my attention whipped around the room. Searching for a way out.
Fight or flight.
I intended both.
Then Jarek laughed. “I think you’ve forgotten who I am.”
Logan smirked, so confident I was afraid he had forgotten. I was worried he’d gotten so far from that world he didn’t remember what was at stake.
“Nah. I haven’t forgotten. I just don’t care. Now if you’d let her go.” Logan straightened his suit jacket.
Jarek’s teeth gnashed, though his hand loosened. I took it as my opportunity to shoot into action, and I wound out from under his hold and rushed for my coat.
I threw it on, and I forced myself not to listen to the words that were exchanged, the vibration of hostility, the blood that would be shed.
All I wanted was to get my things and get out of there.
Get my things.
I almost laughed it was so absurd.
I had nothing. Nothing that was my own.
I tossed open the door and rushed out into the frigid cold.
I could hear the commotion behind me. Shouts and footsteps and a single gunshot.
Oh God.
My chest nearly caved in dread. In a fist of that old, stupid love that should have died long ago. I had to force myself not to turn around and go back to make sure it wasn’t Logan at the receiving end of the bullet.
Run to him to ensure he was safe.
That he was whole.