Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 50820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 50820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 254(@200wpm)___ 203(@250wpm)___ 169(@300wpm)
Kane tips his chin Kit’s direction, approval in the action, and then focuses on Jay with laser intensity, saying nothing and yet saying everything. I can almost feel the rip of panic slicing through Jay that most certainly morphs into his paranoia and my torture—thank you very much, Kane. I step past him and I can feel his desire to pull me back mixed with his determination to do what he feels necessary to deal with his father. Jay falls into step with me. “That man is going to kill me one day. Why am I still here?”
“Because you’re a dumbass for keeping this job,” I say, only to have the doorman, a six-foot two white guy with an abundance of red hair and freckles, flag me down. “Lilah.”
After three previous encounters and attempts to get him to call me Lilah, he’s finally figuring out the customer is always right, and thank fuck. Listening to him stumble over Love-Mendez is about as enjoyable as watching Jay try not to get shot, only to get shot. Duke, that’s the doorman’s name—clearly his parents were in love with historical romance novels—is fairly new to his job, and overly eager to please, considering I’m difficult to please, he goes into overdrive. In other words, I can’t get away from him, but here I am, halting at his request, and rotating to face him.
“Hi Duke,” I greet.
“Congratulations on being the First Daughter.”
Holy hell. I just threw up a little in my mouth. I’m the First Daughter. I need chocolate, preferably a sealed bag of Hershey Kisses I can open and eat in its entirety.
Duke’s brows dip. “You don’t look happy. You don’t like politics?”
“Hate them with the same vehement passion I hate mushrooms. Who eats fungus?”
“Exactly,” he says, his expression lit up with understanding. “And I feel the same about politics. I’d say they’re all crooks but I’m sure your father is not.”
Jay nudges me. “Don’t we need to get upstairs?”
In other words, he thinks I should keep my mouth shut and sadly, he’s right. “What can I do for you, Duke?” I ask.
“There was a man here asking for you about thirty minutes before you got here. It felt off to me and my gut said you should know.”
My first thought is Jack. “Was he lanky and geeky?” I ask.
Duke’s brows dip. “No, he was a big Latino dude.”
Jay curses and steps closer to me. “Let’s go inside, Lilah.”
I lift my hand his direction. “Just wait, Jay,” I say quietly and remain focused on Duke. “Did he leave a message?”
“No message,” Duke replies, “I had to help another tenant, and he disappeared on me. I wish I would have asked his name.”
“Did he ask for me or Kane?”
“You.”
Of course, he did. “I’m sad I missed him.”
Duke’s brow dips. “He was a friend?” He asks the question as if he doubts that truth, as if he sensed otherwise.
“No,” I say, “but enemies are much more fun to play with.” His eyes go wide and I hold out my palm. “Give me your phone.”
Duke does as I say without so much as a blink, and I punch in my number, before returning his phone. “Call me if he comes back.”
I don’t wait for confirmation. I step around Jay and walk toward the building. He curses again and double steps to join me. “Kane’s father,” he says, his tone anxious. “Was it Kane’s father?”
I halt at the entrance. “Yes, Jay. It was Kane’s father.” I motion him forward, and into the automatic door.
He waves off the idea of going first. “You,” he insists.
I don’t argue with him, eager to get inside, where I can call Kane, and warn him of what’s happening. I enter the building, and once I’m inside waiting on Jay to join me, I text Kane: Per the doorman, your father was here looking for me tonight, and not long ago. I’m in the lobby. I’ll call you when I get to the apartment. Jay is beside me now, and we’re already walking. We’re halfway across the lobby, and the hair on the back of my neck lifts again. Kane’s father was not here for innocent reasons like congratulations. He was here to start trouble. Maybe even here to draw my blood, to counter Kane’s efforts to kill him via a new pack with the mob. Jay feels it, too, his quietness a rare commodity that isn’t a newfound skill I can celebrate. I really hate that the best weapon on me at present are the heels of my footwear, but I’ve fought with less.
We round the corner and abruptly halt.
Kane’s father is standing by the elevator.
Waiting on me.
Chapter Seven
The mob failed to kill Kane’s father. I won’t make the same mistake.
Roberto Mendez stands at the elevator, his eyes hard as they fall on our approach, and I note his worn jeans and dusty boots—when he’s normally spit shined, and I read the message loud and clear. He’s not Wall Street tonight. He’s the guy who just buried the body of the mobster who tried to kill him. And somehow, he knows Kane’s involved.