 by Pepper North.jpg)
Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 55087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 55087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 275(@200wpm)___ 220(@250wpm)___ 184(@300wpm)
A mysterious billionaire saved my life.
Now, I owe him.
My team’s Save Sadie at all costs.
My Convince her she’s mine.
Sadie
I wish I’d never noticed that error.
Now, I’m jobless, homeless, and broke.
Thank goodness the resort at Danger Bluff is hiring.
If only that chiseled mountaineer didn’t ooze Daddy vibes.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
Prologue
“You have two choices. Jump, or I’ll shoot you in the head. Either way, you’re going off this cliff.”
Rocco held up both hands. “You don’t have to do this, man. I’m nobody—a mountain guide. I got your men through the pass. Just take the rest of the provisions and leave me here. I don’t care what you and your men have done or what you intend to do. I saw nothing.” He prayed he could reason with these assholes, but that didn’t seem likely.
Rocco was fucked. He glanced behind him. He was less than two feet from the ledge. If he jumped, he would die on impact.
Janks, the bearded stout man who was the ringleader of this organization, laughed sardonically. “You know too much, motherfucker. Which is it going to be? You jump, or I shoot? Personally, I think getting shot between the eyes is the better option. Slightly quicker death than pissing yourself while you fall into the ravine. Either way, it doesn’t matter. No one will ever find your body.”
Rocco knew Janks was right. No one would even be looking for Rocco. He was a one-man gig. A nomad who spent his life in the mountains. His current source of income was guiding people through the mountain pass. Looked like he’d picked the wrong group this time.
Rocco had had suspicions about this group from the beginning, over a week ago. But last night had been the clincher. He’d overheard the men discussing what they were going to do with their money after this massive drug run. He doubted they’d ever intended to let him live anyway, but when they’d seen him standing at the edge of the campsite, they’d lost their shit, grabbed him, and tied him to a tree for the night.
They’d needed him for one more day. They hadn’t known the route. They never would have survived and exited the mountain pass without him.
Rocco had spent the day trying to figure out what the fuck to do to get out of this situation, and he’d come up blank. He’d had a gun, but it was now in the possession of the drug smugglers.
“Three seconds, asshole,” Janks growled, cocking the gun.
Suddenly, a shot rang out. Janks dropped to the ground. The other five smugglers turned around and rushed toward their comrade.
“What the fuck?” one of them shouted, advancing on Rocco.
Rocco was just as astounded as they were. He certainly hadn’t shot Janks.
Another shot pierced the air, and then four more. In seconds, all six men were dead.
Rocco lowered his arms and staggered forward to put some distance between himself and the cliff's edge. He was lucky he hadn’t stumbled backward in the mayhem and fallen to his death after all.
He dropped to the ground a second later. Whoever had just shot these six drug smugglers probably wanted the drugs. They would think Rocco was one of them.
Four masked men wearing all black stepped out of hiding, all of them coming toward Rocco, who rolled over onto his back and held up his hands in surrender. “I’m not with them.”
One of the men came directly to him and offered a hand as if to help him to his feet. “We know. Rocco Thompson?”
Rocco swallowed as he took the offered hand and rose. “Yes. Who are you?”
“That doesn’t matter. What matters is that we know who you are.” The man nodded toward his three companions as they each dragged two of the fallen men to the edge of the cliff and kicked them over the precipice. They launched their gear over after them.
It all took less than fifteen seconds and left Rocco stunned and confused. He had no idea if he was safe or next on the list to die and get tossed over the edge.
The man beside him reached into his pocket and pulled out a strange gold coin. He held it out.
Rocco opened his hand and caught the coin as his rescuer dropped it into his palm. It wasn’t currency. It had no markings on it except for a swirl etched into the face. “What’s this?” he asked, lifting his gaze.
“A marker. Your benefactor will collect when he’s ready. You owe him one.” Then, he and his companions turned and left—so fast Rocco had no chance to respond or ask questions. He was left standing on the edge of a cliff in the middle of nowhere, holding the strangest gold coin he’d ever seen.
A marker? What the fuck? What would he owe someone who’d saved him?
Chapter One
Two years later…
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