Page 79 of Boss Daddy

Before I can move, the second man raises his weapon—a sleek black pistol—and trains it on Erin. “Put it down,” he says, his voice calm and cold. “I’m a crack shot at fifty yards. Fifty feet? She won’t feel a thing.”

My blood turns to ice as I glance at Erin, her face pale but her expression hard. I lower my gun slowly.

“Now,” Mark says. “Set it on the bar.”

I clench my jaw hard as I comply. The larger man steps forward, taking my weapon and tucking it into his belt.

I turn my attention back to Mark. “You traitorous son of a bitch,” I spit. “I trusted you.”

Mark just shrugs, his demeanor maddeningly casual. “My loyalty’s always been with the man who pays me the most,” he says, his tone almost apologetic. His gaze shifts to Erin, softening slightly. “Sorry, Erin. Really.”

“Fuck you, Mark.”

He raises his hands in mock surrender, stepping back with a smirk. “Fair enough. Anyway, as you guys can see, you’re not in a good spot. Misha’s five steps ahead of you, as always. So I guess all I can say is good luck.”

He makes his way around us, stepping into the back halls and disappearing.

The larger man gestures with a jerk of his head. “Let’s go. Both of you.”

I glance at Erin, her hand trembling slightly as it brushes against mine. I lower my voice to a whisper, leaning in close. “Stay behind me.” She nods, her eyes locking onto mine. I take her hand, gripping it tightly. Turning back to the men, I utter, “After you.”

The larger man chuckles, a low, guttural sound. “Smart.”

The other gestures toward the bar. “Go behind it. And put your hands on the counter.”

Erin flicks her eyes to me and I nod. Together, we make our way around the bar.

“Try anything cute,” one of the men says, “and I’ll kill her right in front of you.”

My mind races, cataloging every detail—the placement of the smaller man’s gun in his belt, the way the larger man holds his weapon, the distance to the nearest exit. I’m calculating, planning, waiting for the moment when the odds tilt in our favor.

But for now, we walk, step by step, around the bar. Once there, we place our hands on the smooth wood.

I glance at Erin, her chin lifted in defiance. Whatever happens next, I know one thing for certain: I’ll do whatever it takes to protect her.

The front doors of the club open. Footsteps sound, two more hulking guards flanking a shadowy figure.

My blood runs cold when I realize who’s with them.

“Hey,” Misha says, opening his arms. “What the hell does a guy gotta do to get a drink around here?”

Chapter 30

Erin

“Misha.”

The word comes out of my mouth dripping with venom. I want to smash a bottle, leap across the bar, and stick the pointy end into his fat neck.

One of the guards, sensing the shift in mood, raises his gun. “Keep your palms on the bar,” he says. “Or your brains will be decorating those bottles behind you.”

Misha, a pleased smile on his face, waddles over to the bar and plops onto one of the stools. His girth spills over the sides in a way that would be funny if it weren’t for the disgusting grin on his face.

The sight of him sends a cold rush of anger through me, but I straighten my spine, refusing to let him see how rattled I am.

“Alright,” Misha says, scanning the bottles as he drums his sausage fingers on the bar. “What sounds good tonight?”

As he looks around, I think about Mark. What a total prick. His betrayal completely stunned me.

---