Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79747 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 399(@200wpm)___ 319(@250wpm)___ 266(@300wpm)
My stomach curdles when I realize what the stench is. A woman’s half-decayed and eaten body is sprawled on the bed. My gaze lands on the picure frame beside the bed.
Recognition hits me.
It’s Timothy with a woman I recognize. She had only just been brought into the game when I was leaving. Lyla. I look back at the carcass. The straw-like blonde hair is a dirtier shade than the one in the image.
My phone begins to buzz, and I check the name. Henry.
There’s nobody here, so I turn to leave and stumble on a near-empty bottle of liquor. It draws my attention to the used needle on the floor beside it.
I lift the phone to my ear. “He’s not here. I’m coming out now.”
“I know. Because he’s back in the city.”
I don’t know why, but Henry’s words make my blood run cold.
“Where is he now?” I ask.
“He’s at the bar you’re scheduled to meet Honey at in an hour.”
Rage engulfs me truer than any emotion I’ve ever allowed myself to feel before.
Making a move on my empire is a mistake.
Approaching my woman is a death sentence.
CHAPTER 54
Honey
“Is someone sitting here?” a man asks, interrupting as I take notes of the property Daphne pointed out. I look up from my tablet to a man wearing black shades so dark I can’t see his eyes.
I shake my head and offer it to him before diligently adding notes again. There’s an unsettling smell coming from him, but I try to ignore it.
“It’s a nice restaurant,” he says charmingly, looking up at the beautiful décor on the ceiling.
“It is,” I reply distractedly. I don’t know why, but an unsettling feeling comes over me. I look over my shoulder at the bodyguard who’s been casually flicking through a paper with an untouched meal in front of him since I sat down.
“Can I ask you a question?” he asks.
“I’m quite busy right now. And I’m waiting for someone,” I say as politely as possible.
“Dawson?” he asks.
I look at him now, really look at him. “You know Dawson?”
He nods his head enthusiastically. “Yeah. We go way back.” It’s then that I notice the tremor that ripples through him and the slight slur of his words. I flick another glance to my bodyguard but realize this man has had his back to him the whole time.
“Uh-uh,” he says, shaking his finger. “I wouldn’t cause a scene.” He pulls back his jacket slightly. The motherfucker has a gun. “I’m not opposed to shooting that wailing child over there before I shoot you if you make any sudden movements.”
My screen lights up, and I realize Dawson is calling. It’s the fifth time he’s called. I’d been so enthralled in my research I hadn’t even noticed. “What do you want?” I ask.
He seems taken aback by that question. “What do I want?” He considers as the bartender offers him the drink he ordered earlier. His finger circles the rim thoughtfully. “What I want, I can’t have.” There’s no emotion in his tone. “I’ve lied, cheated, killed, and fucked, all under the pretense of being charming. And it got me nowhere. And yet, Dawson gets everything he wants. Money. Power. Reputation. A pretty girl.”
My back is straight, and if anyone were looking, they might think of this as a business transaction. I’ve dealt with half-assed power plays before, but not someone sitting beside me with a gun, threatening not only me but others around me. The man is clearly not in his right mind.
“And what do you want from me?” I ask.
He chuckles. It has a velvety tone, a honed craft for pleasure. Was he an escort? Not that it matters, I have to get him away from these people.
“Your boyfriend can’t buy his way out of this one,” he sneers.
I realize then that he is so focused on Dawson that he has no idea who I am. He tracked me here, sure. But no one smart enough would come after me so boldly if they know who my father is. Unless, of course, they’re already a dead man walking.
I slowly pick up my glass and take a sip.
He watches the movement before he throws back his own drink. “You’re going to walk toward the bathroom, but instead, you’re going to cut through the kitchen and out the back.”
I let out a breath. “Let me guess, an alleyway?” I say tiredly.
It’s always a fucking alleyway.
“I don’t think you understand the severity of this situation,” he snaps under his breath, and I try my best not to be affected by it. I quickly glance around at the people in the room. How many could he shoot before my bodyguard stands and shoots him? Three, maybe four? If he shoots the bodyguard first, it might be a free-for-all.
“I understand,” I say and carefully press against the bar counter. “Out the back. I’m going now.”