Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 76550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76550 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 383(@200wpm)___ 306(@250wpm)___ 255(@300wpm)
See, I might not have been a really active participant in Family business, but I was still a member of the Family. A valuable member at that since my father and brother ran the whole operation. So I always had to be aware of possible threats. I always had to be prepared to handle them.
My hand was in my desk grabbing the gun in a blink.
And in the next one, I was putting a bullet in Allen Boyle’s head.
I didn’t have a lot of bodies.
I didn’t want to have a lot more.
But if it was going to come down to my life or the life of some scumbag, I was going to choose myself every single time without any guilt about it.
My mind was mostly reeling with how the fuck I was going to get it all cleaned up as I watched the bullet sail through his head.
But then I heard it.
A small shriek.
A small, feminine shriek.
My head whipped to the side, and I saw her.
She was a relatively new part of the staff. She did design, and I remember my office manager raving about her abilities even though she seemed young for the job.
I’d maybe spoken ten words to her since she started.
And that was for two reasons.
One, I didn’t always have one-on-one conversations with everyone who worked for me. And two, she was too fucking pretty to be getting close to,
Anyone who knew me knew I appreciated a beautiful woman, that I liked to wine and dine, have a good time, then never see them again. Leaving both of us, typically, mutually satisfied.
This woman—Joanie? Or Jenny? I don’t know—was kick-to-the-gut beautiful.
I’d put her at about average height with straight, silky light brown hair that framed her delicate face with its slightly squared jaw and chin, her generous lips, and her somewhat sleepy brown eyes.
Gorgeous.
She was also completely forbidden since she worked for me.
So I went ahead and kept my distance.
But now there she was.
At work.
After hours.
Witnessing me murdering a man.
Fuck.
Before I could even fully process that fact, though, she was turning on her very high heels and running.
I had no choice but to chase her. Because I had absolutely no fucking idea what to do about this situation, but I did know that if she got away, she was going to call the cops. And I was not about to do life.
So I ran after her as she tore down the hallway leading toward the backdoor.
It was really only a matter of time.
The slippery floor.
The too-high heels.
I watched as her heel wobbled for a split second before she started crashing to the ground.
There was the smacking sound of her palms landing first before she went down on her knees with a hiss.
Lost, a little disgusted with myself for being the reason she was clearly terrified, I reached down, grabbing her ankle, and wincing at the shriek she let out as she flipped onto her ass to look up at me with these huge, round, scared eyes.
I don’t know if I ever felt as small as I did right at that moment.
But I also knew there was very little choice for me either.
“Don’t shoot me. Please please,” she cried, tears welling up then pouring down her pretty face as she yanked at my hold, pedaling her legs in the air as she tried to walk herself backward with her hands.
“I’m not going to shoot you,” I told her, trying to make my voice reassuring as I pulled her back closer to me.
“You’re… you’re not just going to let me go,” she said, pausing in her kicking.
“No. I can’t do that, either,” I said, shaking my head.
Maybe I should have kept my mouth shut because the panic had her kicking and slapping and shrieking, her nails clawing at my hand as I reached for her other ankle to keep her from doing any damage with those heels on her feet.
I needed to grab her and get her secure somewhere so I could just think for a minute. Which was impossible to do when a woman was screaming and fighting for—she thought—her life.
On a resigned sigh, I lowered down, pressing my knees on her calves to hold them in place as I reached for her.
But I guess she misinterpreted my movements. Because the panic only got stronger. And instead of just screaming, she was begging.
“No, please. Please, no. Please don’t do this,” she cried as she hyperventilated.
I don’t know if it was her shallow breathing or the fear itself, but one second, she was awake and scared. The next, she was out cold. Fainted.
I didn’t think people actually fainted in real life.
It happened in movies and TV all the time, but when was the last time you saw an actual, real-life person faint aside from maybe at the sight of blood? Well, I guess there were those videos of people on rollercoasters.