Page 41 of Little Bird (Advantage Play 3)

Clearing her throat, Q answers, “You needed my help, and I was dead, anyway.”

“But why help me?”

With a quick look at Ace, Q mutters, “I saw her walk in with you. I saw the way she willingly touched you. I saw the way you spoke to her. The way you treated her.”

“And that was enough to put your own life on the line?”

“What life?” she sneers, making my gut clench. “I was in the middle of being sold as a sex slave. My life was already over, and it didn’t hurt that I could take out Burlone by backing your story.”

The guilt that accompanies her bold assessment hits like a bull, making all the men in the room pause as they process it. She’s right. And she was a genius for taking advantage of the opportunity that presented itself.

Once he’s had a minute to digest the gravity of her situation, Kingston continues his questioning. “And what about now? You’re free, yet you’ve put a giant target on your back. Those men are all being arrested for human trafficking, but that doesn’t mean they don’t know people who are still on the outside. They assume I’m going to kill you because you outed yourself as an agent, but Burlone sent your pictures to a lot of bad men. Men who possibly already had another buyer set in place in case they won the tournament. Men who could recognize you. Who could place you as an agent. Do you know what will happen if they find you?”

She doesn’t move a muscle as he reams into her for putting her life in the crossfire. The irony isn’t lost on me, though. Mr. Russo wouldn’t have voted for Burlone’s death if Q hadn’t corroborated Kingston’s story. Still, she deserves a better life than the one she’s been dealt, and because of her sacrifice, it won’t be getting easier anytime soon.

When she stays silent, Kingston keeps going. “If they find you, the last two weeks of your life will have been a walk in the park compared to what they’ll put you through. Understand?”

A single tear slides down her cheek, dripping off her chin and simultaneously showcasing an ounce of emotion from her otherwise comatose state. She doesn’t bother to wipe it away.

“Enough,” Diece barks, shocking the hell out of me.

All heads turn to him.

“Excuse me?” Kingston grits out.

“I’m pretty sure she gets the picture, Boss,” D points out, his chest puffed up. “I think it’s time you mention the solution now.”

Kingston bristles at D’s tone but shrugs it off for the time being as he orders, “My solution is for you to watch her, D. To take care of her until things calm down. Do you think you can do that? Keep her in hiding? Change her appearance? That kind of thing?”

With a mechanical nod, Diece’s attention shoots to Q. She simply keeps staring blankly at the wall. Numb. As if her future isn’t being discussed a few feet in front of her. As if she doesn’t care what the outcome of her life will be because she’s already given up on it.

And it’s all my fault.

“Good. Ace,” Kingston addresses her. “You’re still living with me. Don’t bother arguing.”

“Who says I’m arguing?” she counters before crossing her arms.

With his lips tilted up in amusement, Kingston teases, “Good girl. Will you take Q up to the guest room across from us and make sure she’s comfortable? D and I have a visitor we’d like to have a little chat with.”

I notice my name isn’t mentioned and assume I’ve been dismissed. Without waiting another second, I turn on my heel and leave the office.

But where am I going to go?

I have no clue.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Regina

I’m alone. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or not because all I want to do is kick and scream. I want to cry. I want to hit something. I want to beg my brother to give Dex a chance. I can still hear his voice as he casually stated his verdict in reference to my happiness.

“And who is Regina Romano? She’s the princess to the Romano family. She’s the daughter of Gabriel and Emilia Romano and sister to Kingston Romano, the head of the Romano family. Now, let me ask you this. Who. Are. You?”

Doesn’t the bastard know that there’s more to me than my familial ties? I have hopes and dreams. I have wants and needs. And Dex? He’s so much more than a name. He’s kind. And funny. And protective. He’s my everything.

Angrily, I wipe another tear from beneath my right eye before curling into a ball on my bed. It’s funny, though. It doesn’t feel like mine anymore. Not without Dex by my side.

I need to fix this. But how the hell do I do that?

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