Page 1 of All In

Prologue

Laken

Iroll over, realizing I’m not in my bed. Rubbing at my aching skull, I spend the next few seconds seriously regretting my life choices.

It’s all kind of a blur, but I vaguely remember texting my boyfriend last night. I was supposed to be breaking up with him. This is the third time I’ve tried and, apparently, failed.

I had a glass of wine to settle my nerves before coming over, and bad decisions seem to have spiraled from there.

Did I take my anxiety meds after drinking that wine?

God.

That never ends well.

But it does sound like something I would do.

Dammit.

I was supposed to learn my lesson with that after the last time I lost an entire night of memories.

I focus, massaging my temples.

I remember arriving out front in a cab…

And then really hot sex, and everything is kind of hazy.

Will’s scent is everywhere, and still, I’m not surprised to see I’m alone. He might pretend like he wants a relationship, but in reality, he just wants to sleep with an omega sometimes, then not have to bother with any of the cuddling or coddling that comes along with my designation.

I’m so disappointed in myself.

I swore, no matter how uncomfortable things got, I would cut the cord. We’ve barely seen each other these last few weeks, and before last night, we hadn’t had sex in over a month.

I’m definitely not perfect, but I have continually put in effort to see him. He just never makes it a priority to see me. Thinking about it now, it feels a whole lot like he just wants to keep me on the back burner for when it’s convenient for him.

Long golden-brown hair falls around my shoulders as I sit up, holding the sheet to my chest.

Ugh.

I failed mission “break up with Will” so hard.

My stomach rolls with discomfort, which could be from drinking too much last night, or maybe it’s a physical reaction to how disgusted I am with myself right now.

I peek around, spotting my dress tossed over the top of the dresser.

It’s time for an early morning walk of shame.

This sucks.

When I first met Will, I had no idea what kind of work he did. Back then, I thought he was in business, like more than half of Chicago, but during the last few months especially, I’ve had to overlook a lot of questionable things.

I think I let myself be so oblivious for so long because, if I didn’t, I would’ve had to acknowledge some stuff I wasn’t ready to admit.

Walking out of the bedroom to find a mountain of coke on his dining room table, along with three men I don’t recognize, is definitely a new level of shady. It looks like the guy on the end is counting pills, and the one closest to me has a pile of cash he’s dividing into stacks.

My eyes bug as they slide to the side. There’s someone bound, gagged, and tied to one of the dining room chairs.

Flashes of us having really hot sex all over that table last night spin through my mind, making my thighs clench.

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