Page 5 of Taken By the Kingpin
“Your cover is blown. They know your new name and where you are. There was a social media post you did about goats—”
“Capricorns.”
“And you could be seen in the mirror.” Just a small image of her, in one video, but with Jeanette sending all her boss’ posts viral, she was recognised. A victim of her own talent and humble assumption no one would take any notice of her. Totally unaware of how gorgeous she is.
For a second I think she’ll believe me. But then her innate modesty gets the better of her.
“They’re not interested in me,” she scoffs. “The lost princess.”
“Not lost anymore.”
She is still in my arms, but she’s miles away. She doesn’t believe me. Or rather, she doesn’t want to believe me, but fears I might be right.
“Why should I trust you? You knew they were planning to marry me off. We got on well that one time we met, but you didn’thelpme.”
The bitterness in her tone stings like salt on an open, festering wound. The injustice and truth of it knocks the air out of me.
I broke the arranged marriage between us after we met because she was thirteen. I’d never met her when I first agreed, assuming it would be a dull political arrangement. Then we met. I insisted on an afternoon to “get to know” my bride, and it revealed my mistake. She was a mouthy kid, as funny as she was unhappy, being coerced by her debt-laden father. I was having nothing to do with that shit. But I never anticipated they’d marry her off to Fletcher instead. He didn’t have as much money as I did, but neither did he have as many morals.
As soon as I found out, I fought and burned bridges—physical and figurative—to rescue her.
But she’s right. I should have known. No one else was protecting her, and we were friends during that afternoon. Weirdly united by shared disgust of the situation. I didn’t see then what she would become, and how she needed me to wait for her. I was new to my kingpin job and too focused on my own affairs rather than keeping secure what was mine.
“You have to be careful. Lie low until I can deal with this. I have a safe house ready—”
“Another prison. You’re not ordering me around,” she bristles.
“Yeah, but I am.” I failed to protect her before. I won’t again.
We’re not pretending to dance anymore. We’re standing, her small hand in mine, inches apart, her staring up at me.
She shakes her head. “Sebastian Laurent,” she murmurs. And then she does the last thing I expect. Boosting herself onto tiptoes, she kisses me right on the mouth.
It shocks the hell out of me. We were arguing? And now she wants to kiss me? It’s a sweet kiss, no tongues or lingering intent. Just her lips pressed to mine. But before I can gather my wits and kiss her for real, she has drawn back.
“That was goodbye, Sebastian. I’m done with the mafia.”
It’s then that I notice two more Fletcher men at the edge of the dance floor. I check my watch.
Five past twelve.
Shit.
I got so caught up in being with Jeanette, I fucked up. I intended to get her out of here and safe before she turned eighteen. Now our enemies are closing in and she hasn’t agreed to let me protect her. “We’re leaving.”
“Sebastian!” She protests but my arm is firmly around her waist and she doesn’t want to make a scene. I tow her through the ballroom and down the corridor leading to the back entrance where my armoured limo will be waiting to take her to a safe house.
“I’m not going.” As we get into the empty corridor she digs her heels in.
I release her to get her to meet my eyes. “You don’t understand the risks, Juliet—”
“Juliet is dead,” she says coldly. “My name is Jeanette.”
She turns away, towards the main lobby, and tosses over her shoulder, “Goodbye Mr Laurent.”
Fletcher’s man emerges from the ballroom and heads straight for Jeanette. I see what’s about to happen with dreadful clarity; my angel is oblivious. I have a split second to make a decision as he reaches into his jacket for a weapon and I move faster.
Jeanette shrieks as my silenced bullet hits him just as he grabs for her. He crumples to the ground, groaning in pain.
