The Dom Identity (Masters & Mercenaries Reloaded 2)

“I think I can handle it. You know a good lawyer can get a man out of anything,” Junior said.

“It certainly seems to have gotten you out of paying me what your father wanted me to have.” She still wasn’t sure what was going on. If Bill was going to shoot her, why hadn’t he yet? Why bring her back here? Why not kill her and put her in a dumpster somewhere?

“Move toward the bedroom,” Bill ordered, the gun trained on her.

She needed more time. Bill was a professional. He would do his job as quickly as he could, but Junior would want to make it last. Junior had an odd obsession with her, and she needed to play to it.

What was in the bedroom that she might be able to use? There was an alarm clock, but it wouldn’t do much damage. She might be able to pick up one of the lamps and knock a skull around.

Or two.

Her heart was pounding in her chest as she followed Junior back to the bedroom she’d used before she’d moved in with Michael.

She wanted to see him. Even if it was the last time. She wanted to see him and tell him that she wished they’d had more time together, wished she hadn’t spent the last week holding part of herself back from him. She wished she’d shoved away all the anger and simply let herself love him.

“I don’t care what my father wanted. My father was an idiot. Nothing but a sentimental old man,” Junior was saying. “And he betrayed his family.”

“By wanting something to honor his daughter?” It was what she’d never understood. “All he wanted was to help people like Lara.”

“People like my sister don’t deserve help. They’re fucking addicts. Let them all die.” Junior slammed the door open. “Do you have any idea how hard I worked? And all my dad could think about was my pathetic sister.”

Yes, she knew how Junior felt. There was zero question that Junior had no empathy for his sister. Lara had been everything Junior was not. Kind. Artistic. Thoughtful and caring.

She’d only had one real flaw.

Vanessa moved into the bedroom and realized her time was running out. She couldn’t simply let them shoot her.

She had to move now.

Someone had been in here. She hadn’t been back to this house since the day she’d moved in with Michael, but she knew she hadn’t left things like this. She’d neatly made the bed that morning she’d left, but it was turned down now. Other things had been moved around. There were candles around the bed.

She maneuvered her way to the bedside table. The lamp was heavy. It would do the job. She was far more worried about Bill. Junior was a coward.

He was also a hothead, and maybe that was the way she should go. Everyone had been so calm up to this point. It might be time for some chaos.

“She wasn’t pathetic. She’s not the one who can’t keep a wife,” Vanessa pointed out. “How long before this one leaves you? They never stay long because the truth of the matter is that women want more than a paycheck, and that’s all you are, Junior.”

She shifted her gaze around the room, seeking anything she could use against these men.

“My wife isn’t going anywhere because I’ll ruin her if she does,” Junior replied. His tone seemed calm, but he couldn’t disguise the way his skin had flooded with heat. He’d gone red, his jaw tight. “I’m not an idiot this time. I have plenty of shit on her, and I’ll make her life hell. You taught me exactly how to treat a woman.”

Bill put the small bag he was carrying on the dresser.

He’d shut the door so she couldn’t run through. She watched Bill carefully, waiting for any moment when he would be distracted. Somehow he managed to get the zipper open with one hand, even as his eyes stayed on her. Bill had his back to the bathroom. The doors were closed, but she knew that part of the house well. The big bathroom led to the walk-in closet. There was a window in there. It was small, but she could probably wriggle through if she had enough time to get the sucker open.

How long had it been since anyone had opened that window? She would have to push through the screen.

It wasn’t a viable option, and the French doors that led to the closet didn’t lock.

She had to get to the front door. It was the only way she was getting out of here.

“You taught me that women are only after one thing,” Junior continued. “Money. And they have to be controlled like a dog. You gotta have a leash. I signed a prenup with my latest wife. Bitch still hasn’t given me a kid. I need to divorce her and find a fertile one.”