Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 71275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Stepping inside cautiously, I took in the long dining room table, double the size of Maeme’s. There was food on fancy gold serving pieces all down the center of it. A tiered tray sat in the middle with fancy pastries and fresh fruit and warming trays with small fires underneath the food. The man at the end of the table stood up then, and I saw the resemblance to the one who had brought me here. He was a slightly older version, except he wore a dress shirt and slacks, unlike the other man who was in jeans and a polo-style shirt.
“Mrs. Millroe,” he said in greeting.
Although he was smiling as if I were an invited guest, I could see the glint of evil in his eyes. There was a threat of unhinged damage in that sculpted face. I wanted to correct him. Hearing Hill’s surname attached to me made me cringe inwardly, but I didn’t want to tell him my name. I was sure he knew it, but I chose to remain silent.
“This way,” the man behind me said, waving a hand toward the chairs closer to the other man.
I continued to follow him as I scanned the rest of the room, but we were alone. He stopped and pulled out a chair to the right of the other man.
“I know you have questions,” he began as I sat down. “My name is Falcon Socorro, and I have no intentions of hurting you. I need information from you, Mrs. Millroe.” He paused, then held his hand up to motion for someone.
I heard a door open and turned to see two men walking in, wearing matching black attire, carrying trays.
“Do you prefer coffee or tea?” he asked.
I glanced over at him, not sure if he would remain nice if I refused everything here. If I went along with this, I could get information. Keeping myself from being beaten or killed was my goal at the moment.
“Do you have juice?” I asked.
He nodded. “What is your preference?”
“Orange,” I replied.
One of the men stepped forward with a pitcher and filled the empty glass by the plate in front of me.
I started to thank him, but stopped myself. I wasn’t going to speak unless I had to. Attention to detail. That was what I needed to do. That, and get as much information out of this Falcon Socorro as possible.
When I shifted my gaze back to him, he picked up his cup of coffee, flashing a gaudy diamond ring on his hand.
“Please help yourself to whatever you would like to eat. I’ve already had my meal, but I want to be sure you are full and satisfied before we begin.”
I licked my lips and tried to calm my nerves before I spoke. “I would prefer we talk now. Why am I here? What do you want from me?”
He set his cup back down, and the flash of displeasure in his expression wasn’t missed. He didn’t like his directions to be ignored. He was in charge and gave the orders. If this was the Insantos gang, then I was willing to bet this was their leader.
“Your husband,” he began, “stole from me.”
I already knew this. He’d stolen from a lot of people.
I nodded my head once. “Yes. I am aware he was a criminal.”
Falcon raised his eyebrows. “Was?”
Crap. I was going to hold that piece of information until it needed to be shared.
I managed a shrug. “I haven’t seen him since he was attacked in his house and I ran. I don’t know if he is alive or dead.”
He studied me, and for a moment, I wondered if he was a human lie detector. It felt like he was with the way his dark eyes stayed locked on me.
“Tell me, Mrs. Millroe, why did you run?”
Sharing as much truth as possible might be the way to stay alive here.
“He beat me. I left, hoping the gunshot killed him.”
He narrowed his eyes. “He beat you? Do you know who shot him?”
I shook my head, wishing I were a better liar.
He chuckled then, but his eyes showed no humor. “That’s a lie, isn’t it? You’ve been living under the protection of the men who shot him. Surely, by now, you are aware of that.”
Not good. He’d caught me in a lie.
“Yes, I am aware. But I don’t see how this concerns anyone other than me.”
Another smile that felt as threatening as a snarl would have.
“I’ve not had issues with the family. They keep to their business, and I, mine. However, your husband owes me millions, and no one steals from me. I want my money, and I want his head on my wall as a trophy. You are the only person that I haven’t spoken to who’s connected to him. King Salazar made it difficult to get near you, so I had to wait it out and plan. Test their boundaries and priorities. Seems you are not one of those anymore with the future governor’s daughter on his arm. I saw my opening and took it,” he explained. “I want my money. What do you know about your husband’s whereabouts? Any other hideouts he could be at?”