Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 65682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 65682 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 328(@200wpm)___ 263(@250wpm)___ 219(@300wpm)
“Yes, I did. Here in America and in Columbia.”
“Where’d you get those fancy-ass shoes?”
I kick one leg out to give her a better look. “Beverly Hills. Why do you ask?”
“Wow. They’re beautiful,” she says. “I could never afford anything like that, ya know? I mean Preacher would get them for me if I asked, but it’s not the same as buying them for myself.”
I shrug. “I don’t know, actually. I’ve never wanted for anything. I’m not sure how my financial situation will be now that Dix and I are getting married.”
“You’ll figure it out just like we did.” Two blonde girls drop down in the last two empty seats. “Kelsey and I are rich girls—we’re actually sisters—and we both chose bikers. So you’ll figure out where you fit just like we did.”
I blink at all the information coming at me. “Rich girls?”
Kelsey laughs. “Yep. Like proper trust fund babies. Letty too. Angel Harbor is a wealthy neighborhood.”
“Hold on a second, rich girl. I live in Angel Harbor and I’m broke as fuck,” Gia says. “Although none of us are really broke now that Valentina’s daddy is paying us.” She smiles at me mockingly.
“Wow.” I assumed, incorrectly, that these women were all of a certain type. Poor or middle class with daddy issues or broken homes. It didn’t occur to me that these women would be from all walks of life.
“Thank you, all of you, for trying to make me feel welcome here. Dix and I are getting married which, I guess, makes all of you my sisters.”
“Scary, huh?” Gia laughs and finishes off another shot.
“Kind of. I’ve always wanted sisters.”
Kenna rolls her eyes. “Careful what you wish for. We’re all cool and shit, but lockdown can be a bitch after a few weeks.”
“Don’t jinx us, Kenna,” her sister admonishes.
“Trudy, more tequila, please. Any of you bitches don’t have a shot and we’ll know you’re knocked up.”
“Count me out, then.” Kenna holds both hands up, a beautiful smile lighting up her face. “I’m just a few months along, so we haven’t told anyone yet, but I’m going to be a mom!”
All the women surround Kenna and hug her close, pulling apart just as a bottle of tequila and shot glasses arrive at the table. Gia pops the cork and lifts the bottle high in the air.
“Kenna is out, which means we’ll have to drink for her, Valentina, while you figure out who’s going to be your bridesmaids,” Gia says, grinning.
I blink. “Bridesmaids?”
“Hell yeah,” Gia replies. “If you’re getting married, Dix will have at least Ace and Shades standing up with him, if not all the guys. I can help plan the bachelorette party, but maybe the rich chicks can help with the fancy wedding shit. And no fucking cartel. ”
“Gia, be nice,” one of the other girls chimes in.
“I am,” Gia insists. “I just mean Willow will be there, and I don’t want her getting shot cause some psychopathic cartel dude’s daughter is fucking the VP!”
“Gia!” the girls shout out in unison. The tension in the room is palpable, and for the first time since I sat down, I’m not sure I can do this.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Dix
We arrive at Aria Morgan’s house with a big show of force. Lucky managed to call us when the trouble started, but he hasn’t answered his phone since.
“It’s been twenty minutes. I hope he’s not dead.” Banger’s words echo in the silence all around. The deaths of Devon and Jordi are fresh in our minds because they happened at the hands of the same assholes.
I look over my shoulder at my men. “Spread out and cover every possible exit, even windows. Stay in teams when possible. Got it?”
They all nod and crouch down, weapons at the ready as we approach the Morgan mansion. I point to my ear, and Banger nods to indicate he hears it too. “That fucker is going crazy.”
I enter the front door first and shake my head, grateful this asshole is an amateur. “It would be so easy,” I whisper to Banger.
He nods. “Double tap to the back of his fucking head and my girl would be safe.”
We both know its wishful thinking. Ace has already made his feelings clear on this. We can’t kill Emiliano.
We advance toward the sound of his voice, past all the destruction he’s left in his wake. The house is a mess, with broken vases, tipped over tables and chairs, even a few paintings hang crooked on the walls.
“Just tell me where the bitch is and I might let you live.” I approach the living room, and see the fucker has Aria and Lucky tied up and his gun is trained on Lucky. “Well?” Emiliano continues, and from the way he’s acting, I’m not surprised he slurs his words.
“I don’t know where Willow is.” Lucky’s voice cracks. He sounds exhausted, and I can tell he’s been saying the same thing over and over. “I’m telling you, I’ve been protecting Aria for weeks.”