Page 2 of The Billionaire and the Stripper (The Manhattan Billionaires)

Leo hung up without replying and I knew he was pissed. But he should have done his homework before he carried her off like a bloody knight. He should have asked whether his damsel wanted to be rescued in the first place. Consent was king, even in the rescue business.

An hour later, Luke and I were about to leave for home when Leo called me again.

“Marcus, I need you to go to this address immediately,” he said, rattling off an address in Flushing, Queens.

He sounded serious.

“Sure. What do you need?”

“Arjun is looking for Tia, and he’s been threatening her best friend, Celine Kramer for information. I need you to keep Celine and her daughter safe until we resolve this.”

“Consider it done,” I said right away.

I sent Luke home and headed to the address in Queens.

It was a shabby blond brick house with no driveway. I frowned as I examined the building. There was no security or driveway to speak of, and the front door opened right onto the street. Anyone could break into the house at will.

I parked my Harley in the only spot I saw, four doors down, and trekked back to Celine’s house to ring the doorbell. When there was no response, I rang again. Now, I was beginning to worry. Was she hurt? Or worse?

I tried the door and finding it unlocked, I pushed it open. There was a short, dark hallway that led into the house. I stepped inside quietly, worried about what I’d find. Arjun Monani was a vicious bastard, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he had tortured Tia’s friend into revealing her whereabouts.

There was a living room off the hallway and a short corridor that led to the kitchen. I decided to check the living room first. But before I had taken two steps into the room, I sensed a movement behind me and ducked just in time to avoid the massive saucepan that missed my head by an inch, wielded by a madwoman with murder in her eyes.

CHAPTER 2

CELINE

In my defense, I’d been running on three cups of coffee and a shitload of adrenaline since morning. I was hungry, exhausted and I hate to admit it, but I was scared.

It started off as a normal day. I dropped my daughter off at daycare and got on with my workout. My career as a stripper demanded a grueling workout schedule that included strength and flexibility. I didn’t worry about cardio because the six hours I spent on stage four times a week took care of it.

After I worked my booty off, I wrapped up the workout with a guided meditation. My noise-canceling headphones cut off all the sound, which was why it came as such a shock to open my eyes gently at the end of the meditation and find Arjun Monani’s butt-ugly face so close to mine.

I screamed and scrambled backward on my ass, but the sadistic sonofabitch just smiled. That’s when I noticed his men ripping my house apart like a tornado.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” I asked, reaching for my phone. I had 911 on speed dial, but a fat lot of good that was if my phone wasn’t on me all the time.

Arjun must have read my intention because he kicked my phone out of my reach and crouched on the floor beside me. I wish I had my pepper spray at hand. Hell, if I could even reach one of the knives in the butcher block on the kitchen island, I’d stab him in the eye.

I had always found Arjun Monani to be very creepy. But right now, I also found him to be scary.

I didn’t know why he was here at all. I had only met him a couple of times before this, and he had always sneered at me as if I was a piece of trash his sister had dragged off the street. If he was planning to rape and murder me in my own house, he wouldn’t have brought his thugs along, but I wasn’t taking any chances. A man who would pimp his own sister out so willingly would stick at nothing. I began scooting my butt towards the kitchen island surreptitiously, but he aimed his gun at my temple.

“Don’t even think about it. I’ll shoot you in the head before you even touch a knife,” he warned, and I froze in fear because he sounded serious. Dead serious.

“What do you want?” I stammered, trying not to show my fear. I thanked God that Rose, my little girl, was safe in daycare. If I didn’t make it to pick up, they would call her father, and he would milk it for all it was worth because he was a douchebag, but I had a feeling I wouldn’t be around to hear his nasty comments.

“You know what I want. Don’t fucking play these games with me, Kramer,” he hissed, wiping his nose.

Ohmigod! The fucking cokehead was high, which meant his raging paranoia was going to make everything worse.

“I’m not playing any games, Arjun,” I said carefully, trying not to set him off. “I really don’t know why you’re here.”

“Lies,” he screamed, backhanding me hard enough to split my lip.

He grabbed me by the neck of my Lululemon tank top and pulled me up.

“Tell me where she is, and I might let you live,” he spat.

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