The Last Boss' Daughter

That last part is reassuring. He’s not the most emotionally open guy in the universe, so I’m pleased to know he does like me.

“Oh, good,” I say, breathing a little easier. “That makes me happy. I feel the same way.”

“Good. We’re going to have plenty of time after this is all over to get to know each other better. If you don’t like me, you can always leave. Right now I’m about to get in the car and I don’t want you to waste your charge, so I’m gonna go. But I’ll be back soon, and then we can talk about this more if you need to.”

I smile, further pleased. “Okay, good. Thank you.”

He chuckles and ends the call before I can add, “Be safe.”

Liam

I’ve got the truck in my sights. Outside of it, shadowy men keep shifting around. One is puffing on a cigarette and looking around, the other just stands under the streetlight with his arms crossed, posture tense.

I check my phone, but it’s quiet.

Something doesn’t feel right.

These guys are just hanging around the truck—where’s the buyer?

My phone finally b

uzzes and I read the message on the display.

“Ready?”

I want to abort the mission. Something seems off and this wasn’t in my job description anyway. I did this bonus work the first time because seeing how they treated Annabelle pissed me off and I wanted Pietro to pay any and every way he could, but I’m not into it tonight. I don’t want to put myself at risk causing more damage, I just want to fulfill my original contract and go back to Annabelle.

That’s a foreign thought to pass through my mind, but there it is.

I want to go home. Not to the cabin or my shitty apartment, but to wherever she is.

Annabelle’s my home now. I couldn’t explain to her how ridiculous her concerns about me not wanting to live with her were, since I don’t have any logical explanation to offer, but… somehow it happened.

I can feel myself changing in response to her coming into my life, and I don’t know what to do about it. Maybe nothing. Maybe let it happen.

That’s pretty scary in and of itself.

Sighing, I shove the phone in my pocket and drop the binoculars in the open window of my car door. They fall on the seat and I creep up toward the hood, waiting on the help that should be coming.

Electricity suddenly fires into my lower back and every tendon in my body strains as my muscles contract painfully. White hot pain disables my body and overtakes my mind. I grunt, toppling to the hood of my car, and while pain still radiates through my body, several sets of hands grab me, holding me down and securing my hands behind my back with a zip tie.

I turn my head to establish who’s attacking me and see the smug face of Pietro Basso, which I expected, and the dark, slightly smiling face of Raj Ahuja, which I did not.

Another jolt of electricity shoots into my back and my head swims, my muscles screaming in pain. I try to move, though I’m not sure what I could do at the moment, but I can’t anyway. My muscles are useless as I slump helplessly against the hood of my beat-up car.

Threats and curses fly through my head before someone strikes me in the back of the head, and everything goes black.

I don’t know how long I was out, but when my eyes open it’s clear I’ve been stowed somewhere.

I’m confused. I don’t know why I’m alive. I’m tied to a chair with my hands not only zip tied, but also secured with rope, and I’m in a windowless, cement-block room. The only light is an exposed bulb over by the door with a pull-string to turn it off and on.

Raj sits in a rusted folding chair by the door. Just the sight of him sets my blood to boiling.

I jerk my hands intuitively, and even though I’m clearly not getting loose, he jumps a little.

Trying to cover it up, he shifts in his seat, scoots around a little. He settles with his hands together, nervously running his thumb across his knuckles.

“Liam,” he acknowledges.