Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 310(@200wpm)___ 248(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
My arm looked better, but it still stung with pain when I did too much. I wouldn’t be able to throw a punch. It was my dominant hand, so it would be hard to stab someone too. But I also knew I couldn’t just march up to my father and shoot him at point-blank range.
No, that wouldn’t work.
I didn’t want to shoot him and walk away.
I wanted to make him hurt.
I wanted him to feel betrayed.
Countless times, I considered going to Bartholomew’s apartment and saying something that would change his mind. But that man was as impenetrable as concrete. It didn’t matter that his feelings for me hadn’t changed.
He was the most stubborn man I’d ever met.
If his ex hadn’t hurt him so deeply, I might have had a chance…but she fucked it up.
I fucked it up.
I collected my bags then stepped outside into the warm air. It was summer now and the air was hot and humid, and my body instantly started to sweat under my blouse.
I stood at the curb and waited for my ride to show up, and that was when my phone rang.
Bartholomew.
The second I read his name, a lump formed in my throat. I feared the day I wouldn’t see that name anymore, when he stopped watching my apartment because he didn’t care about me anymore.
I answered. “Hey.”
“Laura.” His voice was stern, like a parent scolding a child. “Get your ass back on the plane.”
I missed him, even when he was pissed off at me. “No.”
“Don’t do this.”
“I have to.”
“Laura, it’s not worth it. Live your life—and live it well.”
“I can’t.” My father didn’t just break my heart. He ruined the best relationship I’d ever had. I think I hated him more for that than shooting me. “I have to do this.”
“You have no chance. He’ll finish the job.”
“I have a plan—”
“An idiotic one. All of this is idiotic. I sacrificed my reputation so you would live, not go back into the lion’s den.” He sounded so angry, I imagined him storming around his apartment throwing his arms about, knocking over lamps because he was so irate. “Get your ass back on the fucking plane—”
“If you care about me this much, then why won’t you forgive me?”
Silence.
“Give me another chance if you’re this upset.” I’d never begged for a guy. Never chased a guy. But I knew he was the only one I wanted, and I believed there was still hope. He said one thing, but the heart on his sleeve was a direct contradiction.
“Are you playing me right now?” Now his voice was quiet—but ice-cold. “Thought if you took a plane to Italy you would force my hand?”
“No—”
“That shit isn’t going to work.”
“That’s not what I’m doing—”
“Bullshit,” he snapped. “How stupid do you think I am?”
“I was just pointing it out—”
“I don’t want you, Laura. The second you stabbed me in the back, I despised you. Is that what you want to hear from me? I deserve a woman who judges me based on who I am, not what I do. You never appreciated me.”
I disagreed, but there was no point in making an argument. “Goodbye, Bartholomew.” I hung up the phone, knowing I had to sever contact. Otherwise, I’d start sobbing right there on the sidewalk with tons of people around.
I took a breath then looked at my phone, seeing that the driver was still five minutes away. I just wanted to go to my hotel and lie in bed…and cry until I fell asleep.
Minutes later, my phone started to ring again.
It was him.
I was so upset, I almost didn’t answer.
Almost.
I took the call but didn’t say anything.
When he spoke, his voice was calm. “I can’t protect you this time, Laura.”
“I never expected you to.”
“I broke my word for you once, and I won’t do it again.”
“I know.”
He stayed quiet on the phone for a long time. There was nothing left to say, but he didn’t want to hang up. “Be careful.”
9
BARTHOLOMEW
I sat in the armchair in the parlor, in my sweatpants and nothing else. The phone was gripped tight in my hand, the corner of the metal resting against the side of my face. Footsteps sounded behind me.
“Bartholomew?”
I stared out the windows to see the city in daylight. I’d been home for hours, but I was too worked up to sleep. When I looked in the mirror, my eyes were bloodshot like I used the drugs I pushed on the streets.
Bleu came into the room and looked directly at me. “Is this a bad time?”
Every moment of every fucking day was a bad time. “What did you discover?”
He hesitated, and that told me it was bad news. “The guys are pretty guarded toward me. They know I’m loyal to you.”
I stared out the window again. I had to double the security around me at all times, even though it wouldn’t make much difference. The men who wanted to kill me could be the ones put on guard to protect me. I had to be prepared for war at any moment. Guns were tucked in hiding places throughout my home. I slept with an assault rifle beside me instead of a woman. “I’ll speak to him privately.”