Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41105 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 164(@250wpm)___ 137(@300wpm)
I reach out, hand trembling, and brush my fingers over her skin.
Warm. Soft. Familiar.
She stills under my touch. Her tiny chest rises with even breaths, like she already knows who I am. Like she’s been waiting.
She’s really mine…
“What time do you want to meet the director of the safehouse?” Chester’s voice returns.
“Call it off,” I say, sliding a finger into her palm. She grips tight. “I’m keeping her.”
“Come again?”
“I’m keeping her,” I say again, firmer. “She’s mine.”
“Don’t make me get a DNA test.”
“You can do that if you choose.”
Chester steps closer, resting his pinky against one of her birthmarks. His expression softens.
“Ryder, you’re not in a position to take on a child. Let alone…”
“You’ll help me handle this.” I tighten my hold. “She’s my blood—the only one in the family line besides me, so she stays…”
End of Episode 16
Not This Time
EPISODE 17
Ryder
Ihate that I still have to deal with this shit…
Can’t believe I’m still battling demons from decades past.
The Texas air around me is heavy—thick with heat, grit, and the kind of silence that only comes before something violent. Dust kicks up with every step, clinging to my leather shoes like the past clings to my name. The red earth smells like sweat and gunpowder, and even with the sun long gone, the heat still radiates off the ground like it has something to prove.
I’m standing over another traitor—one of Rush Banks’ men. His body’s nearly given out, clothes ripped and bloodied from the beating my guys handed him before I arrived.
He’d been stalking me for weeks, tracking my every move, waiting for the perfect moment to take a shot that never came. Another pawn in a tired game to topple everything I’ve built. Another failure clawing for a place at the top.
“Someone’s snitching on you to the feds,” he rasps as I load my gun. “You should know.”
“That’s nothing new.”
“No one stays loyal to a man who isn’t loyal back. Your father found that out the hard way.”
I raise the gun without hesitation. “Keep my father’s name out of your disgusting mouth.”
“Rush will get you in the end.” He coughs, red mist blooming across his chin. “He always wins.”
“Then he must be playing a different game than me,” I say, leveling the barrel. “Because I always win.”
“I don’t—”
I fire two shots—one to his skull, one to the heart. The crack of the gun cuts through the air, echoing off the distant hills before fading into the rhythm of cicadas.
His face falls back into the dirt, and I lower my weapon.
“Move the body,” I say. “And send Mr. Banks my condolences via one of his hands.”
“Yes sir,” “As you wish,” “Right away,” my men speak in unison.
As I return to my car, I roll back the face of my watch. Behind the glass, a photo—Adeline at five, grinning with a violin nearly bigger than she is.
The last day before I sent her away to boarding school.
I thought I’d wrap things up in a year. That she’d forget. That I could rewrite her life without her ever knowing.
But fate had other plans.
Fate still has other plans…
End of Episode 17
A Recurring Role
EPISODE 18
Autumn
One Week Later
Ryder
How is Adeline?
Send me pictures of what she’s doing at this moment.
Thank you.
Outside of sending me those same daily three messages, Ryder hasn’t said anything else to me since he’s been away.
I’m his employee and nothing more, and a part of me actually appreciates the separation. With every page that I flip in the binder—every murky detail from his family that doesn’t quite add up—it’s helping me gain perspective on reality. Helping me see that whatever trance or twilight zone I’ve been in since I met him isn’t real.
“What do you want to eat for lunch today, Adele?”
“One and a half Philly cheesesteaks from Steak Escape, with spicy fries.”
“That’s… very specific.”
“I saw a commercial for them yesterday. I need to see if they taste as good as they look.”
“Your dad doesn’t like you eating fast food,” I say. “Are you trying to get me fired?”
“He likes you too much to fire you.” She smiles. Then she gives me the saddest puppy look ever.
“Pleaseeee, Miss Jane.” She wraps a towel around her waist. “Just one cheesesteak sandwich and spicy fries. It’s right down the street, and I’ll practice the entire time it takes you to get there and back.”
“So, an entire fifteen minutes?”
“Every second counts.”
I hold back a laugh.
“Let me see if the restaurant can…” I stall on the word deliver. “I’ll get it, but I’m taking the scenic route, so you’ll get thirty minutes of practice, and I want it recorded.”
“Deal.”
I towel off and slip into a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt. Then I follow Adele down the hall and into her custom practice room, setting up the three pieces that I want her to play.
I refuse to admit it, but I actually enjoy hanging with Ryder’s daughter, and I don’t see it as “work” at all.