Page 49 of Kingpin

Bonnie

I snickeredas I looked down at my phone.

Once again, the bank account my uncle was supposed to be filling for me was missing. But now I knew damn good and well where it had gone. I tossed my phone onto the couch and crossed my leg over my knee, staring at the elevator. I knew it was coming. The divorce papers that let Israel off the hook.

For the past week, I had waited with bated breath. I jumped at every sound, studied every moving shadow. Because I knew, without a doubt, that if it wasn’t a divorce, Israel would send someone to kill me.

Because that would also nullify our marriage contract.

I stared at the elevator before checking my watch. Well, it wasn’t my watch. I didn’t know whose watch it was. It certainly wasn’t Israel’s. I noticed the watch sitting on the kitchen counter two days ago when I went to get my morning cup of coffee. It had been sitting there in an opened box beside the coffee maker. A beautiful, diamond-studded watch with a blush pink leather strap. Surely, it wasn’t for me. I put it on anyway. I needed to hoard as much of Israel’s things as I could because if he decided to divorce me rather than kill me, I knew my uncle would cast me out.

Cut me off from the family.

I’d have to survive on my own.

“Sounds like a dream,” I murmured.

My eyes fell to my lap. I pushed myself off the couch and scooped up my phone. I didn’t know what kind of mind game my uncle was playing with the bank account, but I wouldn’t play any longer. Resolved, I made a decision. I took a bit of control in my own life and called the customer service desk for the bank my uncle was using.

“Banking United. I see you’re calling from a phone in your profile. Do you know your four-digit passcode?”

“No,” I said.

A few beeps sounded in my ear. “Our average wait time is—”

Then, a female voice popped in. “Thank you for calling us here at Banking United. May I have your name, please?”

Did my name officially change with my marriage?“Um, Bonnie Rossi?”

“I’m sorry. I don’t see that name on the account.”

“Oh. Then, it’s probably under my first name. Brianna Rossi.”

She paused. “No, ma’am. I don’t see that name, either.”

I snickered. “My apologies. I just got married a few weeks ago, and I can’t remember what has registered my name change yet.”

“Oh, congratulations! Trust me, I went through the same thing when I got married ten years ago. It’s a real pain, isn’t it?”

“Isn’t it, though? It’s probably under Brianna Moretti, then. If the system hasn’t updated yet.”

“Yes! There you are. Address?”

I rattled off my uncle’s address, knowing damn good and well that hadn’t changed.

“Wonderful. Now that I have you verified, what can I do for you?” she asked.

An idea popped into my mind. “Can I go ahead and open a bank account in my married name and transfer some money into that?”

“That would be easier, right? I can help you with that. Name for the account?”

“Bonnie Moretti Rossi,” I said.

She typed away. “Checking or savings?”

“Do you have a compound interest savings account that is accessible through a card?”

“I see you’re familiar with our services. We do, but that has a six-per-month limit on withdrawals.”

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