Total pages in book: 20
Estimated words: 18349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 18349 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 92(@200wpm)___ 73(@250wpm)___ 61(@300wpm)
“It was hard,” he chuckles. “But I kept it together out of respect for you, Sterling.”
“You’re good people, Earl.” I lean close to Leia and whisper in her ear, “Come on, we have to go to his room now.”
I feel the tension in her body as I lead her away from the party down the hall, past the guards who have clearly been told to let us pass.
“Are you seriously not going to tell me what’s going on?” she hisses under her breath. Part of me feels terrible keeping my plan from her, but the rest of me knows it’s the only way this will work.
If I tell her, she’ll try to convince me to figure something else out—to take another path. But there’s no time for that. There’s no other way to get us out of this, and all that matters right now is my angel’s safety.
“No,” I say firmly as we continue down the hall. “You just have to trust me, Leia. Trust me and I’ll get us out of this.”
She doesn’t like my explanation. I can see her glaring at me out of the corner of my eye, but if that’s how it has to be right now, then that’s how it has to be.
We reach Donnie’s door and the suited bodyguard standing beside it. There’s a brief moment of panic inside me when he looks me up and down, and I wonder if he’s going to pat me down and find the .38 in my waistband, but it subsides when he simply nods and opens the door for us. I nod back and step past him, still holding Leia’s hand.
Donnie’s room is more like its own apartment inside the house. My heart is pounding in my ears as my eyes sweep the enormous living room and come to rest on Donnie, seated on the main couch in a scarlet robe, a cocktail glass in one hand, his gold pocket watch in the other.
He checks it casually, then looks up at me. “One minute to spare. Well done, Sterling.”
I feel Leia’s grip tighten around my hand. Not only that, but she’s quivering.
I’ve worked for this man for years. My father worked for this man. I never questioned him until now. He was simply the boss, and when the boss tells you to do something, you do it.
But this order, to bring him Leia so he can have his way with her, has made me rethink everything.
Donnie’s eyes land on Leia. He looks hungry, like a man who hasn’t eaten in weeks and has just had a perfectly cooked steak placed in front of him.
“Come on over here, you,” he says to her. “Sterling, you can leave.”
“Don’t,” I say quickly to Leia, using my left arm to guide her behind me. “Go into the bathroom.”
“Sterling—” she starts to say.
“Go!” I shout.
Leia nearly jumps out of her dress but quickly obeys me, rushing into the bathroom and shutting the door behind her. Donnie cocks his head to the side, giving me an odd look.
“What’s all this about, boy—?” Before he can finish, I draw my .38 from my pants and aim it straight at him. His expression shifts instantly. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”
“You can’t have her, Donnie.”
“You’re out of the family, boy,” Donnie spits.
I shrug. “That’s fine. I’ve got my own family now.”
I thought I’d be more nervous when this moment came—thought my hand would be shaking, but it’s not. I’m solid as a rock, ready to do whatever it takes to protect my love.
“Now you have two choices, Donnie,” I say, my voice firm, calm. “Either you let us go and tell your men to never come after us, or I blow your head off right here, right now.”
Donnie’s arm moves quickly—like a blur of movement.
He reaches down into the cracks of the couch and comes up with something black and steel. I recognize it as a Glock just as he’s raising it up to fire.
I fire, but as I do, I hear the sound of his gun going off too.
Epilogue
Leia
Four Years Later…
* * *
“Three years.” My dad smiles, tossing his chip as I drive him home. “Can you believe that? Three years without stepping foot in a casino.”
“I’m proud of you, Dad,” I tell him as he pats me on the knee. “And just think, none of it would have been possible without Sterling.”
I chuckle as Dad frowns at me. He pinches me on that spot on my thigh that never fails to tickle me, and I quickly swat him on the back of the hand.
“Hey, stop! I’m driving! Do you want me to crash and kill us both?”
“I want you to give credit where credit is due!” he protests. “And I did the work to get past my gambling addiction—not that mafioso bastard who bought my daughter from me.”