TWENTY-EIGHT - JAMESON
I involuntarily smiled, inside and out, just seeing him watching over me, knowing he was right there and, in a way, had been all along.
He was none the wiser he was the reason for my happiness.
Roman was once my whole world and had become even more than that now, if that were even possible.
Even considering all that we’d been through—the lies, the deceit—I fully understood the nature of this business.
Of his business. Roman had chosen me first, time and time again.
That alone was all the reassurance I needed to know that we belonged together. And as soon as I was done giving my obligatory thank-you speech and walked off this stage, I was going to tell him exactly I felt about him, that I wanted him to stay here and be with me.
I just needed to make it out of here alive first.
I focused on bringing myself back to reality and continued speaking.
Sweat poured from every pore on my skin. From the blinding spotlights to the thought of being in the same room as Kane or one of his cronies, knowing that I was their target, I just knew I’d ruined this satin dress with perspiration.
“Thank you again,” I began concluding my speech, “each and every one of you for being here tonight for the Haunted Hearts Gala, for me, and, most importantly, for my dad. He would have loved to have seen this turn out. Enjoy the rest of your night.”
I welcomed Kelly to the podium and waved to the cheering crowd as I walked off the stage and down the steps. My heart pounded against my chest with anticipation of running to Roman.
As I slipped behind the thick, bloodred velvet curtain where he’d once stood not five minutes ago, a large hand reached out of the darkness and grabbed me by my arm above my elbow. He pushed me in front of him, shoving me to walk forward.
At first, I thought it was Roman trying to take me away from the party, but the grip was aggressive and tight—way too tight.
Then, I felt the barrel of his gun dig into my ribs. I swallowed down bile. This is it.
The chatter and laughter of the party grew exponentially softer as I was being dragged away, and Kelly took the stage to give her whole spiel on food and drinks and donations.
“Ouch. That hurts,” I cried out, trying to pull away. But the guy’s fingers were like a vise wrapped around my arm. I tugged again a little harder but to no avail. “Get off me.”
As I tried to turn and see the man who had my arm in a death grip, a fabric hood flew over my head from behind me.
He jerked me around, steering me away from the event center.
The laughter and music faded into the distance as he took us through an emergency exit.
I may not have been able to see in front of me, but I could see through the bottom of the hood.
We made our way down a narrow, abandoned utilitarian hallway that led to an unused stairwell.
The emergency exit door slammed shut behind us, and all noise from the party ceased to exist.
Something plastic sounded like it had popped and broken, and within a few seconds, emergency strobe lights flashed, and fire alarms blared.
Idiot. Now they’ll really find me.
He quickly walked me down the stairs two at a time. I stumbled once, twisting my ankle and losing a shoe in the process. His grip held tight though, and he tugged me back upright.
“I don’t know who the fuck you are or what you want,” I yelled over the blaring alarms, “but I assure you, we won’t get far. My men are already looking for me. You just cost yourself your own life.”
Everything happened so damned fast. I never even had the chance to see who’d taken me, and he still hadn’t mumbled a single word. But he seemed to know exactly where we were going; he knew his way around my casino. That much I did know.
It was all I could do to maintain composure, knowing I wouldn’t be here long.
Roman and Ivan at the very least were already looking for me.
My men were probably in a panic upstairs.
They’d have this building locked down, and every square inch of this property searched from top to bottom in one sweep—not a single soul in or out until I was found.
He forced me down the last stairwell, a metal grate with peeling paint and rusted handrail. We’d finally reached the underbelly of the casino, the lowest point of the boat and subsequently my life at the moment.
I hated it down here. Not that I came down often—about once a year was my due diligence.
Single fluorescent bulbs hung sparsely from the ceiling that was lined with miles and miles of bundles of exposed cables and wires, all powering everything above us. The floor itself was covered in at least two inches of river water and another two inches of silt and mud below that.
We’d reached our final destination as he pushed the final door in front of me open with a loud, gritting creak.
This time, I fought back. I pulled and tugged and screamed and kicked as loud and hard as I could, trying to fight him off. It was a futile effort. This man was twice my weight and had probably ten times the strength. Nobody would hear me down here.
“You are not about to lock me in a cage on my own goddamned boat.”
He’d taken me to the isolation room. For some, it was just a mythical place that only existed in fiction..
Those who claimed to have seen it believed.
Those who didn’t thought, no way, because surely no one with an ounce of humanity would lock another human being in a four-by-four concrete cell while they stood in four inches of muck and merk.
Unfortunately for a few unlucky others, it had once been their reality.
Now, it was mine.
The cold barrel of his gun now pressed against my temple.
“Shut the fuck up, Jameson,” he threatened under his breath, “or I swear to god I will fucking shoot you.”
My heart sank as tears filled my eyes when he finally spoke. Recognition hit me like a freight train. There was no way this was happening to me right now. No fucking way.
“Roman?” My voice cracked. “Wha—what are you doing to me?”
“Exactly as I’m told to do. It’s just a job, right?”
Just a job? This could not be happening to me. This was all just a nightmare, and I’d wake up any second. I’d wake up on the beach, sun-kissed skin with a margarita in one hand, good book in the other.
Stay calm. I’d never get out of this if I let him or my emotions get the best of me. Regardless of his intent, I was not going to die tonight.
I slowly inhaled a deep, head-clearing breath. “You don’t have the balls,” I challenged through gritted teeth. “You never have.”
He jerked me against him. “I had enough to kill your dad.” His voice was deep and laced with a threatening promise. “Don’t tempt me now.”