Page 44 of Kingpin

Bonnie

It was exactlywhat I was afraid of. That Israel would spare my life only because he didn’t truly believe me. And it was happening. He was asking questions he’d soon get answers to in order to confirm my story, and then he’d probably shoot me, too. Kill me. Right here. While I sat at his feet. Men like him—powerful, unforgiving men—don’t tolerate betrayal. Even if they claim otherwise, your sins always come due at one time or another. In this world, being spared today didn’t make you immune to consequences tomorrow. Especially, when circumstances changed.

The gunshot rang out, and the enforcer dropped to his ass. I watched him clutch his knee as I stared, wide-eyed, with tears threatening. I slowly looked up at my husband, but his eyes had locked on Bradley. As anger rose behind them, I knew I was done for.

There’s no way out of this.

“Stay right here,” Israel commanded.

I watched him turn to leave. “Where are you going?”

“I said, stay up here. I need to ask these men some questions. They aren’t going anywhere for a while.”

“You don’t believe me, do you?”

He paused in the hallway. “You better hope I have mercy on you if they confirm your story. Because all I can tell you is that I’m half-hoping you’re lying to me.”

I felt sick to my stomach.

I sat there in a daze as Israel dragged the bleeding men down the stairs. Bloodstains streaked the beautiful white carpets and marred the hardwood staircase as they cried out in pain. It was the most heart-wrenching sound I’d ever heard, and I scrambled to my feet. I rushed into the bathroom to bend forward at the sink. As I retched into the marble bowl, ideas started careening through my mind.

I could take control and kill them.

Israel would kill me just for denying him the right.

I could blame it on menstrual rage.

I’m not bleeding, though. He’d surely check that.

I could make a deal with the enforcers.

I couldn't. They were already downstairs, in Israel’s claws.

I could offer them more money when they leave to retract their statements.

With what money? My accounts were frozen.

Wait,ismy bank account still frozen?

I rinsed my mouth out with water as muffled cries of pain wafted up the staircase. I tried to block out the sounds as I stormed around, trying to find my phone. When I finally laid eyes on it, I scooped it up. I opened my bank account and tried to access it.

Only to find that I could actually log in again.

“What the fuck?” I murmured.

I didn’t know what kind of game my uncle was playing, but he wouldn’t outsmart me. I was better than that. Stronger than that. He had sent men to kill me, but he obviously had another plan in mind if he had unlocked my account again. Maybe my cousin hadn’t siphoned my money at all. Maybe it was my uncle playing with my mind.

He’s always been good at psychological warfare.

Truth be told, those enforcers were on the low end of the food chain in my uncle’s business. So, if he really meant to kill us, he’d send someone better, someone higher up the food chain to do us in. Bradley and Deac had always been known to be sloppy. And because they were so damn big, they were always used as intimidating muscle rather than actionable muscle.

Which my uncle always differentiated.

I have to get into that interrogation room.

I took one last look at my bank account and grinned. Three hundred thousand. I could work with that. Because I know damn good and well my uncle didn’t sink even half that money into the men who had attacked us tonight. I tightened my robe around me and scurried down the stairs. I followed the muffled sounds of groaning until Israel’s low, threatening voice graced my ear. I shivered with fear at the sound before I knocked on the door. I knew I was taking a gigantic risk by interrupting the session.

But I needed to get in there.

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