Chapter 1 - The Game Changes
Larkin Steves moved through the crowded ballroom with the lethal grace of a hunting predator.
The sea of dangerous men and heavily jeweled women parted for him automatically.
I stood frozen near the grand entrance, my heart hammering wildly against my ribs.
Thomas was standing a few feet away, his cruel smile melting into an expression of pure, unadulterated shock.
He had expected a mousy secretary in a cheap polyester suit, ready to be devoured by the wolves.
Instead, I was wearing four thousand dollars of black silk and a shade of lipstick that looked like fresh blood.
Larkin did not smile as he stopped inches in front of me.
His dark, calculating eyes swept over my body slowly, taking in the plunging neckline and the sharp cut of my new hair.
For the first time since I had met him, the legendary boss of the Steves syndicate looked entirely caught off guard.
He reached out, his warm fingers brushing lightly against my bare shoulder.
A shock of electricity sent a shiver straight down my spine.
I expected him to mock me, or perhaps fire me on the spot for defying his humiliating trap.
Instead, Larkin leaned down until his lips were mere inches from my ear.
His expensive cologne smelled of cedar, smoke, and danger.
He whispered that I had played my hand brilliantly, but the game was far from over.
He slid his hand down to my waist, pulling my body flush against his tailored suit.
The entire ballroom was watching us with bated breath.
He told me to smile and pretend we were desperately in love.
I forced a stiff smile, asking him exactly what game we were playing.
Larkin smoothly guided me toward the center of the dance floor as the orchestra began a slow waltz.
He softly explained that there was a professional assassin hiding in the room tonight.
The target was not him, but rather the visiting head of the Russian mafia.
If the Russian boss died on Larkin's territory, it would spark a massive, bloody war across New York City.
Larkin told me he needed a distraction to draw the room's attention while his men searched for the killer.
He pulled me closer, his grip tightening like a steel vise around my waist.
I realized with a sudden spike of terror that I was no longer just a secretary.
I had just made myself the perfect, highly visible bait.
Before I could even process this nightmare, a waiter accidentally bumped into my shoulder.
May you like
I turned to accept his apology, my blood instantly turning to ice.
Beneath the waiter's crisp white uniform, I saw the undeniable gleam of a silenced pistol tucked into his waistband.
