Page 50 of Forbidden Billionaires: Vol. 8
“Uh, thanks,” I said. Was he really just going to ignore the rest of my message? I kind of hoped he would.
“Is there anything else I can help you with?” he asked.
“I can’t believe you actually came,” I said.
“Of course I came. You order the sausage, so I bring the sausage. That is how restaurants work, ya?”
I nodded.
“I hope I got your order correct.”
“I’m sure you did.”
“I am not so sure.”
“Didn’t I just order some sausage? As long as you brought me that, then I’m sure we’re good.”
“Miss Cooper, I must insist that you check your order. It is Sausage King policy to never leave without ensuring that the customer is completely satisfied.”
Okay.I unrolled the top of the bag and looked inside. On top of some Styrofoam boxes was a handwritten note: “Blink three times if you are in danger.”
So that’s why he’s acting so weird.He was worried that the murderer was still in the building and just sent me out here to create an illusion of normality.
I was about to laugh and tell him that it had all been a misunderstanding when a particularly strong gust of wind blew some hair into my face. I brushed it out of my face, but not before blinking a few times.
Three times, to be precise. Which unfortunately signaled to the sausage king that I was still in danger. He charged at me and tackled me to the ground. The to-go bag flew out of my arms, sausages flying everywhere.
At the same time, four heavily armed guards materialized out of thin air. Their faces and uniforms had been painted to make them blend in perfectly with the topography of the roof.
One of them ran over to me and the sausage king. Two of them pointed their rifles at the elevator. And the fourth did some weird parkour moves to get to the elevator as quickly and stealthily as possible. He spun into the open doorway and got ready to shoot.
“All clear!” he called a second later.
What the hell?“Dude, get off me,” I said, pushing at the sausage king. He was spread out over me like some sort of human blanket. And he weighed a freaking ton. Which made sense given that he was like 6’5 and super jacked.
“You are safe now, Miss Cooper,” he said. “The murderer will stand no chance against my guards.”
What was the best way to tell him that the whole murderer thing had been a misunderstanding and that my blinks had been accidental? The answer was to probably just rip the Band-Aid offand be honest, but I took things in a slightly different direction. “You saved my life!”
The sausage king pushed up a little bit so that he could look down at me. His face was only a few inches from mine. “Of course. A true gentleman would never ignore a beautiful woman in need.”
The sausage king thinks I’m beautiful?According to Chastity and Wikipedia, he was a real-life prince. Well, technically he was a duke, but close enough. It was still all very fairytale-esque to have a nobleman come riding to my rescue. He was my knight in shining armor. I blushed a little. But I was mainly concerned about the tremendous amount of pressure building on my midsection. Because this dude was heavy AF and apparently quite bad at distributing his weight while planking atop a damsel in distress.Oh God, oh God, oh God.He was squishing my liver! “Get off!” I yelled, pushing on him with all my strength.
He rolled off. “Where are my manners?” asked the sausage king. “Are you hurt?”
My breathing started to slow. I couldn’t be certain, but it didn’t feel like my liver had fully burst.Crisis averted.“I think I’m okay.”Kind of.Now that my liver wasn’t in grave danger I was able to take stock of the rest of my body. The sausage king had somehow cushioned my fall pretty well, but my butt and elbow still hurt. I turned my arm to get a view of my scraped-up elbow.Ow.
“Your elbow is bleeding,” said the sausage king. “One moment.” He disappeared into his helicopter and came out with a med kit and one of those metallic blankets that they wrap aroundpeople who get rescued from a freezing cold river. He wrapped it around my shoulders as he tended to my wound, first cleaning the blood off my arm and then patching it up with a Band-Aid. He even blew on it like my mom used to do when I’d get a boo-boo. For such a giant man, he was extremely gentle. And he was a duke.Is this real life?It kind of felt like I was dreaming. Although after meeting an actual genie and joining New York City’s most exclusive sex club, nothing should have really surprised me anymore.
“Does that feel better?” he asked when he was all done.
I nodded. “Much better.”
“Very good. Where shall I take you?”
“I actually need to get back to work.”
The sausage king looked at me like I was crazy. “Work? In the building with the murderer?”
