Chapter 28
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Something was up with Tisha. I assumed she was upset with me for not taking her phone calls, but the more I watched her, the more she seemed sad or carried a heavy burden.
It wasn’t in my nature to explain myself, and I wouldn’t start now, no matter who it benefited.
Her protest of being here hadn’t gone unnoticed.
She was more on edge than normal. Or maybe it was my paranoia about what I was getting ready to do.
I was about to be off the market. Giving up my title of being one of the richest bachelors in the world.
I settled into my room and was ready to see her.
I strolled to the bar nestled in the corner of the kitchen.
Pulling a tumbler from its resting place, I poured it half full of whiskey, then downed it in one gulp.
I needed to relax and calm myself. That little episode in the elevator had me riled up.
This—everything—was all for her. I didn’t know how the transition from crime boss to legit businessman would be.
Surely not easy, but for Tisha, I was willing to do anything.
I didn’t want her putting her life in danger anymore to save mine.
It wasn’t worth it. I wasn’t worth it. Loosening my tie, I pulled it off and threw it on the bed, along with my jacket.
I set my second drink down and loosened the top two buttons on my dress shirt and undid the buttons at my cuffs, rolling up the sleeves to my elbows to get comfortable.
I picked up my tumbler and headed to the balcony. I opened the drapes Tisha closed and opened the doors, stepping out into the night.
For all its lights and noise, New York City was just as beautiful at night as Chicago. I took a deep breath and made my way to the railing. I sipped my whiskey, savoring the burn down my chest.
A glint from across the way caught my eye, and I leaned in, squinting to get a closer look. But I couldn’t make out what I was looking at.
The glass of whiskey shattered in my hand.
I looked down, frozen. My brain wasn’t computing what was happening.
Fire licked at my side and my shoulder before I realized I was being shot at.
A flash of red was the only thing I saw as I stumbled backward, crashing into the furniture out on the balcony as I tried to take cover back inside the room.
Another burn in the back of my thigh ensured I stayed as close to the floor as possible, dragging myself across the threshold of the doors as bullets reigned around me.
If I could just get to the other side of the bed, I’d be safe.