Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75107 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 300(@250wpm)___ 250(@300wpm)
The tie was next.
Before I could grab my dress, though, he was reaching for it and helping me back into it.
I walked over to the vanity, using a wet paper towel to clean up my eye makeup and smeared lipstick.
I ran my fingers through my hair.
It wasn’t bad.
There was nothing I could do about my flushed skin, about the freshly fucked satisfaction on my features.
I tossed the towel then rushed toward the door and unlocked it.
Before I could reach for it, though, Venezio’s hand slammed into it, keeping it closed.
Then his hand was at my jaw, firm, possessive.
His lips landed on mine.
It was a hard kiss.
Like he was trying to make a point.
Like he was staking a claim.
And as I was still leaned against the wall with watery legs, he pulled open the door and gestured for me to move out.
Feeling shaky, I did, glad when I saw no one around to catch us and our lascivious ways.
I glanced back at Venezio, feeling my stomach twist at the possibility that he might act differently now, treat me differently.
But after straightening his tie, his hand went to the small of my back again and started to lead me toward the ballroom.
Close as we were, I felt the change in him before I turned to see it.
His whole body tensed.
His breathing ceased.
When I looked over, I saw the tightness that had overtaken his handsome features.
Then his hand wasn’t on my lower back; it was grabbing my hand, crushing hard.
“Run!”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Venezio
My biggest concern moving out into the hall had been someone standing around, waiting to see who it was that had been fucking in the bathroom. Because there was no way someone passing by hadn’t heard Steph’s soft mewls and loud moans.
Even just the memory of them had my cock twitching, ready to go another round.
I saw no one at first, though. No guest with a smirk and a camera handy. No employee with a frustrated head shake, worrying there might be something gross for them to clean up.
No one.
Until a shadow seemed to shift.
My gaze zeroed in, all my instincts knowing that it was never innocent when someone was using darkness as cover.
In the ballroom, the music had shifted from some crooning ‘lonely at Christmas’ song, to one about decking the halls.
It could just be an employee sneaking a second to vape, the more rational part of my mind suggested.
This was a fancy-ass event. I’d even eyed one or two personal security guards inside. I was pretty sure no one else had clocked them. But I knew what to look for: the tight posture, the way their gazes were always moving, how they checked in on their principals to make sure no one needed them.
Maybe it seemed crazy for lawyers to have security. But these were criminal defense attorneys. And there was always someone pissed off whether they won or lost their cases.
This place was secure.
There was no reason to suspect any sort of threat.
And yet my blood went icy.
Every muscle seemed to tense.
Any other day, I would have walked forward, faced the potential threat head-on.
But Stephanie was standing beside me, still orgasm-woozy.
I wasn’t going to put her in trouble.
The shadow shifted.
My guts twisted.
Because the light slanted just right across the man’s face.
Some people struggled with faces.
Everything about my life up to this point demanded I remember them, note them, recognize them even if they’d changed their hair, got ink, pierced something.
And that immediate recognition, the way my mind flew right back to that alley, to that truck, to the man I’d killed… and the one who’d gotten away, was the only thing that probably saved us.
My hand grabbed Steph’s.
He stepped forward, his hand going into his waistband.
“Run!” I demanded, my voice a ragged rasp.
I didn’t wait for her to understand, to move of her own accord. I turned and ran, dragging her along with me.
“Venezio,” she gasped as I pulled her down a side hallway, my gaze searching for an exit.
The carpet muffled it, but I could hear the man’s footfalls as he chased us.
His motivation was strong.
Mine was stronger.
I pulled Steph in through a door marked Employees Only.
The chaos of the kitchen assaulted us all at once.
Pans banged. Water splashed. Voices barked or laughed.
The scents came to me next: the lingering traces of garlic and onions, with a syrupy sweetness from dessert, an industrial cleaner that stung my nose, and the scent of bodies that had just rushed through, making a fancy four-course dinner for the elites in the other room.
The dishwasher eyed us first, his brows furrowing.
There was no time to explain. I didn’t even bother to warn them as I ran forward toward the red Exit sign at the back of the room.
Steph let out a grumble as the holes in the fatigue mats grabbed at the heels of her shoes.