Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 36221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36221 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 181(@200wpm)___ 145(@250wpm)___ 121(@300wpm)
I lick my dry lips, and his eyes drop there.
A heated look crosses his face. It’s one I know, because I’ve seen my sister pull it from many men. The only difference about this time is that this man is actually handsome. All the guys my sister messes around with give me the creeps. She doesn’t let their appearance–or for that matter, anything else about them–get to her. All she sees is the money.
“Where are we going?” I ask, feeling the vehicle start to speed up. “Are you taking me home?”
“What’s your address?”
I let out a small sigh of relief then began to ramble it off. I glance over my shoulder at the driver to see if he heard, but the handsome man grabs my chin gently, pulling my eyes back to him. “Why were you at the club tonight?”
“Why does anyone go to a club?” I shrug, making the strap of my dress slip down. The man releases my chin to move it back into place.
“What’s your name, little one?”
“Zoey.” As soon as I answer, I wonder if I should have made up a fake one. Then again, I already gave him my address, so I’m guessing it really doesn’t matter. Damn it. I’m terrible at this. Why did I ever think for even a second I could slip into my sister’s world? I knew better. Even our own mom told me to stay out of her messes. Not that Mom had been much better. The two of them were always so much alike. Sometimes I wonder how I could have turned out so different. “What’s your name?”
“Leone.” Damn. Even his name sounds sexy and fierce. “Now tell me, why were you at the club?” he asks again. He’s awfully persistent.
“Maybe I was there to hang out. To have a good time.”
His eyes flicker down my body and back up. I’m still perched in his lap.
I had to go digging through my closet to even find something to wear. I wanted to blend in so I could get into the club. I was hoping to find my sister, but my last resort was Marvin. He has this obsession with her, and he would likely know where I could find her. From the way Leone is questioning me, I’m guessing I look like a girl who was playing dress up in their mom's closet.
“You’re bleeding.” He reaches into his suit jacket and pulls out a cloth and proceeds to press it to my knee. “Now, answer me. I’m not a patient man.”
I nibble on my bottom lip, not sure what I should say or not say.
“Marvin knew who you were, didn’t he? He recognized you despite your little ploy about the men’s room. Do you work for him?”
“No.” I shake my head. “He knows my sister. I was looking for her.”
His eyes narrow on me. “Who’s your sister?”
I have a feeling this man always gets what he wants, and if he wants to know who my sister is, he’ll get it from me one way or another. He also might be able to help me find her. Who knows what kind of trouble she might have gotten herself into now? I always warned her that one day she was going to bite off more than she could chew. That not every man would fall for her charming seduction.
“Out with it,” he snaps, his tone firm, making me sit up a bit straighter.
“Xanadu,” I blurt.
“Fucking hell,” he mutters.
“Are you taking me home now?” I ask now that I’ve answered his questions.
“No,” he responds, his hold on me tightening, letting me know I’m not going anywhere anytime soon.
3
LEONE
She squirms. I don’t care. I’m not letting her go. She’s bleeding and clearly involved in Marvin’s gigantic fucking mess. If I let her out of my sight, I have zero doubt that the gunman from earlier will find her and kill her. He didn’t want witnesses–which makes sense given he murdered one of Nick Davinci’s men in cold blood.
“I think I should just go home, okay?” She looks up at me. “I’m clearly in way over my head. My sister is the smart one, the clever one. I’m just, you know …”
“You’re just what?”
She shrugs. “I’m the one who gets caught.” She glances around. “Like now. I can’t get away with anything. It was dumb of me to even try.”
“I don’t like that.”
“Huh?” Her eyes open wider.
“I don’t like the way you talk about yourself.”
“You don’t even know me.” She tries to pry herself from my lap.
I keep her in place, though her efforts are rather amusing.
“I can handle myself.” She smacks my arm.
“Clearly not. If I hadn’t been at that club, you’d be–” I stop before I speak something horrible out loud. I don’t want to think of what would’ve become of this girl if I hadn’t seen the shooter and thrown her to the floor before he could hurt her.