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)
“What the fuck, Kane? It’s over. Stop freaking out. I walked into his dressing room and Ghost had him sitting in a chair. He told me to choose if he lived or died.”
“A gift,” he supplies.
“A gift,” I confirm. “And you know no one kills that man but me. I said as much and Ghost broke his finger. My father’s now crying like the little bitch he is and asking for you. He probably wants to yell at you for letting Ghost inside while demanding you protect him. He’s an idiot.”
Kane releases me, his hands settling on his hips, his jaw clenched hard, a grit to his teeth. “I assume Ghost is long gone?”
“That would require fear of being caught. I’d bet a whole lot of money and strawberry pie that he’s still here, eager to watch the aftermath of his actions. And before you ask, no. I do not think he has anything else planned.”
“He’s obsessed with you.”
“No fucking kidding.”
“He needs to die,” he bites out.
“You’ll have to find him first.”
“He will not come at you again.” He says the words like a command and a threat to a man who isn’t even here.
“I don’t need you to take care of me, Kane. I’ll find him. I’ll kill him. When the time is right. Tonight wasn’t that time.”
“I won’t give you the chance to prove you win that matchup, Lilah. Not this time. I’ll go talk to your father, but send a damn medic. If he says one wrong thing to me, he’ll need one for more than his finger.” With that, he turns away from me, and enters the dressing room, his masculine woodsy scent lingering in his aftermath. Some might call it the scent of sex, others that of death on their doorstep. I call it the scent of power. The scent of control. The scent of a man you do not cross.
Unless you’re me, of course.
My father and Ghost are fucked.
And I love it.
Chapter Two
I call for the medic team and Pocher shows up with them, proving he’s my father’s stalker. Or puppet master, depending on how you look at it and while I still believe my father will turn master to servant, his whimpering display lends doubt to that certainty. He is, after all, the man who ordered my murder, rather than daring to face life, and a career, with a daughter with opposing views. Pocher considers himself invincible, and tonight, Ghost proved my father is not, but perhaps by default he’s proven Pocher isn’t either. Choosing a weak follower to be in control still leaves you with a partner in crime who’s weak.
My father would turn on him to save himself. Pocher would kill my father to save himself. And I’d kill either or both to make the world a better place. At least one of us is going to die, and it’s not me.
Of course, Pocher halts in front of me, squaring off as if ready for battle, a tall man you always remember as short. He’s in a suit, his salt and pepper hair exposing far more of his wide forehead than the world was ever meant to see. Failing to kill me when he had the chance seems to have stirred real anger in him. These men are such little bitches. “What the hell is going on?” he demands. “Did you do something to him?”
“Not yet. I’m thinking you should be the first on my list to “do something to.” That way when it’s my father’s turn, you won’t be there to hold his precious little hand. You took your shot with me. It’s a bit like Russian Roulette, but I’m the gun and your time is up.”
“What the hell happened?” he repeats, his teeth grinding together, which might be nails on a chalkboard to someone else, but to me it’s all about living under his skin. Tormenting him is almost worth keeping him alive.
Kane exits the dressing room, done with my father with lightning speed, I suspect, before he ever entered the room. I point a finger gun at Pocher and pretend to pull the trigger. “Bang. You’re dead.” I pause for effect, before adding, “Soon.” I step around him, and fall into step with Kane, walking down a hallway created by curtains. “What did you say to him?”
“I told him the only people who have ever been close enough to Ghost, and knew that it was him, to kill him, were you and me, and he’d be good to remember that. I also told him he’s the new governor and if he didn’t stop crying like a pussy, I was going to live stream him for all the world to see.” He glances down at me. “I took a video as evidence. I figured you couldn’t stomach it enough to document it.”