Total pages in book: 120
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113464 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 567(@200wpm)___ 454(@250wpm)___ 378(@300wpm)
I duck out of the room first, darting across the narrow hall leading out to the back of the building. The ladies’ room is just as classy and tasteful as the rest of the establishment, with forest green walls and sparkling marble on the floor and the sink. I guess a man like him wouldn’t own any old rinky-dink place.
One glance at myself in the mirror, and I’m glad no one saw me scurry in here. My lipstick is smudged around my mouth. I quickly wipe it clean and reapply, then dab at the perspiration along my hairline before pulling a comb out of my clutch.
Where does this leave us? I know better than to ask him that question, so I’ll plague myself with it on repeat. Word is going to spread. I’m sure Jack Moroni is already bitching to whoever will listen about what I did to his precious son tonight.
A giggle bursts out of me before I can stop it. I stabbed the guy with a fork. Quiet little me.
When the door to my right opens, I imagine it’s Tatum, and I’m ready to laugh with her over the way things fell apart.
But it isn’t Tatum, and it’s not another guest.
I don’t recognize him at first, thanks to the black ball cap he’s wearing, pulled low over his eyes.
It’s only when he lifts his head, standing directly behind me, that I gaze at the reflection of my ex-boyfriend. “I came in through the kitchen,” he whispers. “This is the only way I can help you.”
I don’t know what the rag in his hand means. I only know it can’t mean anything good. He clamps the rag over my mouth and nose before I can scream.
A sweet smell overwhelms me, and my vision blurs before I can do more than squirm and kick weakly.
Then everything goes dark.
CALLUM
I wish I could say the satisfaction of claiming my woman has calmed me down, but that’s not exactly true. I know she’s mine; no one’s taking her from me.
Certainly not some sleazy piece of shit like Dominic Moroni. His last name is the only reason he’s still breathing. That and the witnesses present at the restaurant.
Still, I’ve been insulted. That kid was supposed to be here to meet my daughter, not to feel up another girl while sitting at the same table as Tatum. Jack had better do a lot of thinking on how to make this up to me. If not, I’ll set the terms myself.
Terms he will not like much.
Our table is empty now, and our servers stand around looking guilty and confused.
“Sorry to have broken things up,” I murmur, but it’s Tatum I’m concerned with now. Scanning the dining room, I find her sitting alone at the bar, nursing a glass of wine. Something about the way she holds herself gives off a Do Not Approach signal, but I’m her father. That sort of shit doesn’t work on me.
She spots me in the mirror behind the rows of bottles along the wall and cuts me off before I’ve said a word. “That’s who you were going to marry me off to, huh? A real Prince Charming.”
I can’t hold back a sigh. “There was never any real chance of a marriage.”
“Of course. How could I forget? I’m a pawn.”
“You’re being a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t. How could you even give that guy the idea I would marry his son? You didn’t even ask me about it.”
“How many times do I have to explain myself, Tatum? It would never happen. You’re making a big deal out of nothing.”
“I didn’t like that Jack guy looking me up and down like some prize heifer.”
“I didn’t like it, either.”
“You didn’t stop him, though.” She stares down into her glass, biting her lip. Dressed the way she is, she could go to any club in the city at this very moment and have her choice of any man. I’d have to break their hands for touching her, of course.
Right now, she’s my little girl. Unsure of herself and lost in her feelings.
“It was business,” I remind her, gentler this time—gentler than I normally am. “Emotions can’t get involved with business.”
I catch my mistake when she lifts an eyebrow, but it’s too late. “So, you weren’t emotional back there at the table?” She arches the other eyebrow and folds her arms.
“That’s a different story.”
“Is it, though?”
“What was I supposed to do? I would have stopped him if it was you he was fondling under the table, too. You know I would have. That’s unacceptable.”
When she dips her chin, I tilt it upward with one finger until her green eyes meet mine. “He insulted you, too. If I wasn’t already planning on fucking that Moroni bastard over, I would start making my plans now.”
Her lips twitch. “I should’ve known.”