Page 4 of Bishop

“Then I guess we’re at a fork in the road.” Her smile increases as something nudges my crotch. Something hard. My dick responds with interest despite the blatant threat to my manhood. “Have you ever been tasered in the balls, Bishop?” She raises a haughty brow. “That is your name, right?”

My nostrils flare. My pulse fucking surges.

“It sure is.” I inch harder against the threat. “And no, nobody has ever dared to taser me. Anywhere. Let alone the crown jewels. So just to make the repercussions perfectly clear, if you decide to make that move, you’d want to hope it kills me.”

She chuckles, sickeningly self-assured. “And why is that?”

“You break it, you bought it, belladonna.”

Her laughter continues, the sound deceptively innocent despite the underlying venom. “Move.”

“I will once you tell me how it was possible to get this close to you.” I plant my hands on the wall on either side of that gorgeous face. “How I can continue to remain a fucking dick length away without interference?”

She stares at me, the seconds ticking by without response. But that condescending brow of hers wavers slightly. The smile, too.

I edge closer, a breath from those venomous lips. “Dear ol’ daddy took away your regular detail and left you with chumps, didn’t he? They couldn’t protect you if their lives depended on it, could they?”

She raises her chin in defiance. “I’m sure they could.”

There’s something about her words. That tone.

“Where are they?” I glide a strand of hair behind her ear, appreciating the strength it must take for her not to flinch. “You’re not going anywhere until I get an answer.”

“Or until I fry your little swimmers.” She pokes my dick with the measly stun gun.

I grin. “Fuck around with my private parts and I’ll do the same with yours.”

She rolls her eyes. “You think I’m scared of you? I eat men of your caliber on a weekly basis.”

“You have no clue of my caliber.” I’m tempted to push this further just so she can have a first-hand account of the type of man she’s dealing with. But fuck that. Fuck her. I’m tired of this shit. And so unbelievably fucking tired in general. When was the last time I slept? “Just tell me where the hell they are so I don’t have to walk into that ballroom and start asking people one by one.”

She falls silent. Unresponsive.

What is she hiding?

I retreat an inch, removing myself from her heavenly scented poison cloud. “Are they even here?”

The quiet remains. There’s nothing but the droll tone of the MC carrying from the ballroom while her stun gun remains poised near my favorite asset.

Her delicate swallow gives her away.

“That’s it, isn’t it?” I retreat farther, giving her space to wallow in whatever shame is brimming to the surface. “It’s not that they’re shit at their job—they’re nonexistent, aren’t they?”

She bends down to retrieve her clutch, ignoring the question.

“Answer me,” I growl. “Are they unreliable or nonexistent?”

“My safety isn’t your concern.” She straightens, her attention moving to the hall leading to the ballroom. “Leave. If I see you again I’ll ensure security removes you from the building.”

“All you’d be doing is scheduling them a lengthy stay at the nearest hospital.”

“Such big, tough words from a big, tough guy,” she drawls. “But one of us is bluffing, Bishop, and I’ll give you a free piece of intel—it sure as hell ain’t me.”

2

ABRI

I stride from the bathroom alcove and into the hall without looking back, the long length of my scarf swishing against my shoulders as I make my way to the ballroom to reclaim my seat next to Gordon.

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