Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 131455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 657(@200wpm)___ 526(@250wpm)___ 438(@300wpm)
“This had better be good,” I murmur without greeting him.
“Of course it’s good. Why else would I be calling you at this time of night. I did it. It finally happened.”
My grip on the phone tightens. “What are you talking about? I’m not in the mood for games.”
“This isn’t a game.”
Then why does he sound so jumpy? Almost hyper. “Tell me you have good news.”
“Excellent news. And if you want what I know you want more than anything, you will meet me at the address I’m about to provide.”
Easy. Calm. I can’t afford to leap without looking first, especially when it sounds like the kid is on speed.
“Is this about what I think it’s about?”
“You’ll find out when you get here.”
“I’m going to need more than that, Sebastian.”
“Do I have to spell it out? I have something you want. This merchandise isn’t the kind I can let out of my sight. So you claim it, or I’m going to have to. Either way, it needs to be dealt with.”
“How many men am I bringing with me?”
“None. You won’t need them. This is the part where you trust me.”
Trust him? My heart is about to tear its way out of my chest. If he has Moroni, why won’t he use his name? And what’s with all the riddles?
“Give me the address,” I grunt, scribbling it down on a notepad before tearing the page free.
“It shouldn’t take you more than twenty minutes to get here. I’ll be waiting.” With that, the line goes dead, leaving me staring at my phone while the sound of my heartbeat fills my ears.
Why was he so cryptic? That’s what bothers me, the question that rolls around in my head as I leave my office and head to the staircase. I take the steps two at a time before rushing down the hall as silently as I can, slowly opening the bedroom door.
She left the lamp on and there’s a book open on her chest. She fell asleep while reading. I can imagine her waiting for me as long as she could before there was no fighting sleep anymore. Considering she blew a man away three nights ago, she’s taken things well. No outbursts beyond the breakdown at the scene—I’d be worried if she hadn’t at least wept after what she went through. Beyond that, she’s been strong and resilient. She knows what needs to be done now and can accept it. Yet another example of her belonging at my side. She was made for me, for this ruthless world. My queen.
For a moment, I take in her peaceful beauty. The dark locks fanned across the pillow, the hand curled beside her head. My little bird. She got damn lucky, escaping the crash without a scratch. It was Charlie who ended up with a concussion and a broken arm, and even that seems mild when I think of how bad it could’ve been.
Now she’s dreaming, unaware of the current battle going on inside my head, between trusting Sebastian and possibly losing a golden opportunity. When I look at her and think about the life growing inside her, there’s no choice to be made.
Whatever it takes, I’m going to protect them, and that means following Sebastian’s instructions.
I walk into the closet, as quiet as I can, and push all the clothing out of the way, typing the code into the safe that’s built into the wall. Weapons. I need a gun, or two, and maybe a knife. I strap a blade to my ankle and grab a gun, placing it at my back. Then I close the safe and walk out of the closet, my gaze lingering on Bianca for a moment longer. I’m tempted to give her a goodbye kiss but I don’t want her to wake up and question where I’m going. Lying to her is not an option and I wouldn’t want to anyway. We’re partners in this.
So I slip out of the room, close the door carefully, jog downstairs, and head straight out the front door. The trio of armed guards standing in the courtyard cast quizzical looks my way. I ignore them and make a beeline for Romero’s cottage. I’m not surprised to see the light on in the front window— he hasn’t gone to bed yet. It’s as much of a challenge for him to relax and let go at a time like this as it is for me.
The door swings open practically in sync with my knock. “I saw you coming,” he explains. He’s in flannel pants and a plain white t-shirt, so at least he’s made the effort to try to rest.
By the time I finish rattling off all the details of Sebastian’s call, his brow is lowered to the point where I can barely see his eyes. “You trust him? When he sounded half out of his mind?”