The Woman on the Stage Read Online Jessica Gadziala

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Mafia Tags Authors: Jessica Gadziala Advertisement

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I had to run.

I had to get safe.

I couldn’t go home. Frank knew where I lived.

And I didn’t want to go to the hotel in case someone was following me. I would accidentally lead them right to Milo.

Think.

I had to think.

I had no cash, no cards, no payment apps on my burner phone.

But this town was full of places to hide out.

I just had to get to one.

Preferably one nowhere near the casino.

Then I could call Milo.

So I just ran. And ran. And ran.

My lungs burned.

My jaw screamed.

And a migraine was splitting my skull apart.

I saw the parking garage up ahead.

Not the one that I’d been in with Remo.

This one connected to that one by a glass catwalk. It was for valet parking, and I charged at it, not even moving the fence barrier, just squeezing in past it, feeling it slice my skin in the process.

I ran upward.

One floor.

Two.

Then made my way toward the valet booth, going inside, slamming the door, then dropping down onto the filthy ground, pulling my knees to my chest.

My hand shoved down my dress, grabbing my phone, but I was breathing too hard to make the call for a long moment.

I was still panting when I heard his voice.

“Roe? Are you alright? There’s a fire at—”

“Milo,” I cried.

“Where are you?”

“Valet parking garage. But be careful, he knows… he knows I was…”

“It doesn’t matter. He’s not going to get to you.”

I didn’t have the heart to tell him that he already had. He’d find out soon enough.

“Okay,” I said, then hung up so he wouldn’t hear me as I finally lost the battle with my tears and started to cry.

I didn’t expect them to come in like an action movie, cars knocking down the fences, tires squealing as they took the corners to come up to the second floor.

Then I heard doors.

Four of them, I think.

I stayed exactly where I was, paranoid that it was the other guys.

“Roe? Baby, come out,” Milo called.

I sucked in a steady breath and got to my feet.

I slid open the door.

Stepped outside.

The headlights were on me, making all of them fall into shadow, but giving them all a good view of me and my messed-up face.

“Fuck,” Milo said.

“That motherfucker,” Remo snarled.

Milo rushed to me, wrapping his arms around me gently, like he was afraid to hurt me anymore.

“Wait,” I called when Remo turned and stormed back to his car. “Wait. We need to talk first.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Milo

Remo and I were still in the mystery woman’s room, searching, waiting, when we heard the distinct sound of a fire alarm.

It was Remo who told me it was Frank’s casino.

I rushed over, watching hundreds of people flood onto the Boardwalk.

I tried to scan for Roe, but there were just too many people moving too quickly.

“Shit,” I said, looking over at my cousin.

“Well, let’s hope it doesn’t burn the fuck down. That’s months of work down the drain,” he said, too tired even to muster any emotion for that potential outcome.

Whatever happened, or didn’t happen, with Dom’s case, someone needed to force him to catch a few hours of sleep.

He might be the boss, but even the boss was human.

I was just about to suggest he go ahead and take a nap on the mystery woman’s damn bed when the call came through.

The second I heard her voice, I was already running.

When Remo heard that Frank was onto her, he’d somehow assembled two more men to get in the cars with us as we flew through the now-busy streets toward the abandoned parking lot.

I figured she was just scared.

Just traumatized by a confrontation.

Until she walked out of that fucking booth.

And I got a look at her gorgeous face, already swelling, already bruising.

I’d been pissed off plenty in my life.

For myself.

For my business.

For my Family.

But everything paled in comparison to the molten rage coursing through me as I reached for Roe and pulled her carefully against me.

“We can’t go to the hotel or my place,” Roe said when she convinced Remo not to peel out of there and go put a bullet in Frank’s head.

“Yo, reserve us a room at Harrah’s,” Remo demanded, looking back at his little brother. “It’s far enough away from shit that we should be good,” he explained at my look. “And we can get her what she needs there.”

With that, we piled back into the cars, but Remo drove mine and his brother took his, letting me sit in the back with Roe’s head on my chest and her legs draped over mine.

“Are you hurt anywhere other than your face?” I asked.

“No,” she whispered. “But my head really hurts.”

“What were you hit with?”

“A really big fist.”

The growl rumbled through me before I could stop it.

“I’m okay.”

“You’re not. But you will be,” I assured her, my hand sliding up and down her back as the hotel loomed up ahead.


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