Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
I took to the two-lane road that the last time I traveled it, I’d had no idea what was waiting for me. How my life would change in a split.
No warning.
And I was determined to find out why.
How the fuck Jarek Urso had ended up there.
Thirty minutes later, I was pressing the button at the security gate outside Haille Manchief’s home. It beeped and the voice came through. “Ah, Mr. Lawson.”
“Oz,” I said back.
He chuckled. “He’s not going to be surprised you wish to speak to him.”
“I doubted that he would be.”
“Come in.”
The gate buzzed and swung open, and I wound up the curved drive and came to a stop in front of the massive stairs. I hopped out and started up them. Oz opened the door before I made it to the landing.
“How is it problems follow you wherever you go?”
I roughed out a laugh, tossed a smirk in his direction. “I’m just appealing that way. Everything is drawn to me. You have seen me, right?”
He scoffed a teasing sound. “More like a magnet for trouble. I haven’t had to draw my gun in years, and the last two times you came around, things got interesting.”
“What can I say? I’m an interesting kind of guy.”
Oz laughed. “You’re something, all right.”
With a grin, I shook his hand as he welcomed me inside. The man was all affable smiles while his attention still seemed to travel everywhere, constantly on guard.
The guy took his job seriously, that was for sure. But it was no secret men like Haille Manchief traveled in dangerous circles. They had shady friends and even darker enemies. No doubt about it considering mine had been sitting across from me just a couple nights ago.
“Right this way.” Oz gestured down the hall, and he led me into a sweeping library where another mammoth fireplace roared.
The man himself was behind a desk at the far end of the room. He stood with an amused grin. “Logan Lawson. Welcome. I have been expecting you.”
I strode that way, reaching over to shake the hand he extended. “Haille. Thank you for having me.”
I sank onto the seat opposite him and crossed an ankle over my knee, trying not to fidget, to act like this visit didn’t feel like it was the most important I’d ever made.
A chuckle rumbled from him as he sank into his plush chair. “You know my door is always open to you. You’ve made me a lot of money, so in my book, that means we’re very good friends.”
The arch of his brow was pleased and intrigued.
“It’s my job, and I do it well.”
“So humble.”
I shrugged. “I see no reason to be.”
He laughed a rumbling sound. “No, not when you’re as good as you.”
Rocking back in his chair, he studied me with a sly grin on his face. “So, what is it I can do for you?”
Apprehension gushed through my veins. I sucked it down and attempted to play it cool.
“I need to know how Jarek Urso ended up sitting at your table two nights ago.” That shit came off hard, anyway.
Amusement played through his expression, his red cheeks puffing out. “I figured you would.”
He was far too pleased in my discomfort.
The twisted, sadistic fuck enjoying someone else’s pain.
I could see it written all over him. He was excited by the idea of Jarek and I actually fighting to the death.
May the best man win.
I intended on it.
I toyed with the seam of my pants, canting a glance at him when I asked, “I suppose it was clear enough he and I have a history?”
“Blatantly.”
“And did you know this when you invited him into your home?” There was a challenge behind it. Haille might hold the money, but that didn’t give him the go to toy with me.
“No, I got word from a connection that there was a very hungry player…someone in trouble who needed to flip his circumstances quickly.”
I let that seep in.
I’d already known it—had smelled the desperation oozing from Jarek. He was backed into a corner, and I just needed to figure out exactly what that slime had done.
Give it to Aster.
Set her free.
He cocked his head. “I couldn’t think of a better opponent than you.”
“You knew I’d win.” It wasn’t a question.
He almost shrugged. “You usually do.”
And he got his cut.
It was our agreement.
If I won, his cut was double what anyone else paid to play at his tables. It didn’t hurt me since I almost always came out on top, and he brought the highest rollers. The ones who had the most to lose.
Thing was, most of them didn’t care all that much if they did.
But a man like Jarek…one who had a knife to his throat? They’re the ones that got in over their heads.
Do or die.
Last chance.
Last ditch.
And I was going to be sure to see to it that it was his.