Page 62 of Witness Protection

Hawk promised to be everything she’d ever wanted.

“I like the sound of that,” she said. “I couldn’t have asked for a better birthday gift. Ever since that day, I was lost.”

“It’s you and me. Never doubt my loyalty to you, Sophia.”

She thought of Cayden and her happiness diluted. How could she love two men equally? What was wrong with her? She’d end up destroying them both if she mentioned her true fantasy.

Sophia kept her mouth shut.

They enjoyed their meal, and she didn’t talk much. Her mind was elsewhere, everywhere. She was excited to take the next step with Hawk, but she missed Cayden and wondered where he was.

Maybe she was a whore like her mother. She’d heard it enough from her father before he died. Why else would she have such deviant thoughts?

“Do you want dessert? How about a piece of cake for your birthday?” he asked.

“Only if it’s takeout. I want to see your present.” She stood up, careful of each step in her high heels. “I’ll just visit the washroom before we go.”

“Okay, I’ll get the check.” He winked at her, and her heart fluttered. Hawk was ridiculously handsome, and she loved him in a three-piece suit.

She weaved around tables toward the hallway to the washrooms. A lot of eyes were on her, but she was showing a lot of skin, so ignored the attention. She’d needed as much ammunition as possible to get Hawk to see her as a woman.

Tonight, everything would change.

Her excitement mixed with her increasing nerves, making her feel uneasy. She’d regroup and pull herself together in the washroom before leaving with Hawk. There was nothing to be afraid of. Hawk was her rock. She loved him, trusted him, and wanted him to dominate her body.

He’d never hurt her.

The bathroom was huge and empty. Her heels echoed as she walked along the row of sinks, admiring all the gold and ivory detailing. Hawk really did give her the very best for her birthday.

She leaned over the counter to touch up her lipstick.

The shadow of someone entering the washroom reflected in the mirror.

A man.

Sophia twirled around, bracing her hands on the counter behind her to keep from falling. He smirked, staring, pacing back and forth. She knew right away he was a hitman. And he was there to kill her.

Adrenaline burned her veins, but she refused to show the bastard fear.

“I think you’re lost. This is the woman’s washroom,” she said.

Something emerged from his sleeve. A garrote. She’d seen some of her father’s enemies take their last breath with one of those.

“I’ll scream.”

“It wouldn’t be fun otherwise,” he said.

He took a step forward, and she turned and grabbed a ceramic soap dish, almost sad that she was about to destroy it. Sophia whipped it at his head, then scrambled down the counter to grab another.

Her heart raced as he closed the distance between them. He was so much bigger than she was, but she’d go down fighting. She grabbed one of her stilettos off her foot and used the heel as a weapon, jabbing him in the shoulder as hard as she could.

I’m going to die on my birthday.

Her attack only served to agitate him, his brow furrowing as he threw her shoe and pulled her closer. She felt the cool metal wire brush her arm, and she whimpered, too tempted to beg for her life.

Then someone was behind him, a huge arm around his neck. He released his grip on her, clawing at Hawk’s crisp white sleeve as he gasped for breath.

“Who hired you, asshole?”

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