A strange sensation stirs in my chest.
I want to know what’s troubling her. I want to make sure she’s safe, but I have no clue why. It’s really none of my business, and if she’s as scared as she looks, I doubt she’d want help from some random man she’s never met. In this day and age, there is no such thing as the kindness of strangers. Though it’s obvious that’s what she needs—someone to be kind.
“That’ll be a hundred and nine dollars,” the desk clerk says. “How would you like to—”
The woman pulls out a thick wad of cash and quickly slides the money over.
A sick feeling churns in the pit of my stomach. Something isn’t right. Everything about her radiatesdistress, from her disheveled clothes to her flightiness to the slight quiver of her bottom lip and the quickened pace of her breathing.
“May I trouble you for your name?” the desk clerk asks. “To have on file.”
The woman slides an additional fifty dollars over the counter. “That’s for you. To make something up.”
The man is obviously confused at first, but his features quickly melt into a polite smile. “I hope you enjoy your stay, Ms. Doe. Here’s your keycard.”
The woman is surprisingly fast considering her small stature. She snaps up the key and immediately heads to the elevators.
As do two men, tailing her a few paces behind.
My body reacts before my brain does. I follow them down the hall, stepping around other guests trying to check in and check out. I arrive just as the elevator doors slide open, the four of us cramming into the elevator car together. The woman presses the button to the top floor, my first clue that she’s aware of the danger she’s in. A penthouse suite is worth way more than a what she handed over.
She’s buying herself time.
Not a single word is spoken, nothing but softdingsover the speakers counting every floor we pass. I stand at the back of the car, silently sizing the men up.
They’re double her bodyweight and twice her size, dressed in fitted black suits and polished leather shoes. To the untrained eye, they could easily be mistaken for businessmen, but their ugly mugs and visible neck tattoos are a clear indication that they’re probably not here for the big pharmaceutical convention on the ground floor.
We pass Floor 28…
Floor 29…
Floor 30…
The doors slide open. There’s nobody in sight; just a lonely maid’s cart left unattended.
One of the men puts his hand on her shoulder. “Ms. Allegra, you’re coming with us.”
The woman whips around in an instant, nailing the man square in the groin.
“The fuck I am!” she hisses before barreling out of the elevator.
Chapter 3
Willow
Iknew I was being followed the second I got off the bus. It was just a feeling, the weird tingle of eyes on the back of my neck from afar. When I got to the hotel casino, I spotted them in an instant.
Two of Esteban’s guards, both following me to the elevator. They weren’t even discreet about it. They made a B-line for me like freaking linebackers.
I have no idea who the third guy is, though. Probably some random casino guest, but it’s also very likely that my fiancé decided to bring in the big guns to ensure my safe, albeit unwilling, return.
Because he is—big, that is.
If I weren’t in the middle of fleeing for my life, I would have taken the time to admire his handsome features a while longer. Dark chocolate brown hair, an aquiline nose, deep green eyes that remind me of the dense canopy of a tropical jungle.
It doesn’t matter how jaw-droppingly sexy he is.
If he really is one of Esteban’s men, I’ll give him a piece of my mind all the same.