Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80451 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 322(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“We’re all set,” Vera says, turning to me with a grin. “Just a little freshening up, right?”
“Yeah.” My throat is dry, my thoughts still whirling from the heated moment between Lincoln and me. I was happy to head away when Vera mentioned freshening up in the restroom. I needed a moment to compose myself, because sure as I ever was… I love him.
Vera rummages through a tiny gold clutch, extracting a compact mirror and a tube of lipstick the color of fresh blood. She hums softly, touches up her lips, then glances at me. “You’re definitely the adventurous type, aren’t you?”
I force a light laugh. “I guess so.” My fingers tremble a little as I smooth the edges of my eyeliner. There’s a tang of adrenaline still lingering on my tongue. Something about being in this quiet space with Vera suddenly makes me feel exposed, and I’m not sure why.
She sidles closer, her tone still playful. “You and Lincoln have quite the chemistry. I can see why you two like to… indulge.”
I meet her gaze in the mirror, trying to project confidence. “We do,” I say, hoping she doesn’t notice how fast my pulse is racing.
A slow, knowing smile curves her red lips. “But you’re not really married, are you?”
My heart slams to a stop. “What?”
Vera taps her lipstick tube against the counter, her eyes flicking over me in the mirror’s reflection. “Come on, Isabel,” her head cants to the side as she studies my expression. “Maddox.”
My stomach twists. This is exactly the confrontation Lincoln and I dreaded, but from Vera? The one we’ve been trying to charm all night? “You’re… um, who are you?” I try to convey power, but my voice comes out wobbly.
She laughs—a quiet, silky sound that sets my nerves on edge. “Oh, Isabel,” she croons, shutting her compact with a snap. “You think we didn’t set all this up?” Her smile glitters with the triumph of someone who’s figured out a puzzle. “Led you exactly here.”
Fear roils through my gut. My eyes flick to the door, and Vera moves to block my path. “Lincoln will…”
“Will what?” She cuts me off, arching a brow. “Listen, sweetie, I was willing to let you and your protective pseudo-husband play your games, but Morris has other ideas.”
I open my mouth to demand answers, but the click of the restroom door swinging open makes my eyes widen. My heart lodges in my throat when Trey steps in, followed by a tall figure dressed in an immaculate suit—Morris, I realize with a jolt—and two burly men who fan out behind him. Their presence sucks the air from the room. Trey locks the door, and the echo of the latch sliding home feels like a dagger of certainty. I’m trapped.
My pulse thunders. I glare at them, trying to quell the tremor in my muscles. “What’s going on?”
Morris’s dark eyes land on me, a slow, predatory smile curving his lips. Up close, I see the cold calculation in his gaze. “Hello, Isabel,” he says, voice as smooth as satin. “I’ve been looking forward to meeting you in person.”
Trey chuckles, coming to stand behind Vera. “Thought we’d skip the small talk, seeing as you and Lincoln are obviously not here just for fun.”
My stomach plummets. They know. They’ve known all along. Desperate thoughts race through my mind: I could scream, try to fight my way out. But the two men behind Morris are built like tanks, and the locked door is behind them. My odds look grim.
My hand clenches at my side. “What do you want?” I snap, struggling to keep my voice steady.
Morris feigns a concerned look. “Why, to talk, of course,” he says, stepping closer. His cologne is overpowering—woodsy and sharp. “But there’s someone else who’s… quite excited to have a conversation with you.” He smirks, exchanging a glance with Vera and Trey. “Thinks you owe him an explanation.”
A chill scuttles across my skin. Someone else? “Lazarus Delgado,” the name falls from my lips like acid. I lunge forward, trying to push past them, but the two bodyguards block me easily. One of them grabs my arm, twisting it behind my back with ruthless efficiency. Pain flares in my shoulder. “Let me go!”
Vera giggles, picking up her clutch. “Always so dramatic. Come on, let’s go somewhere quieter,” she coos, ignoring my struggle.
Panic sears through me as the bodyguards propel me toward the door. I fight, thrashing with every ounce of strength, but their grip is iron. “Lincoln!” I shout, though I know he’s too far away to hear. My voice reverberates uselessly against the tiled walls.
Trey unlocks the door, peering into the hallway to ensure it’s clear. Then we’re moving, hustling me through some back passage I didn’t notice earlier. The music from the club fades behind us, replaced by the hollow echo of my own ragged breathing. Morris stalks at my side, occasionally glancing over with that smug smirk.