Becoming the Mob Queen: An Angel City Mafia Novel (Angel City Mafia Romance) by Renee Strong

Author:Renee Strong [Strong, Renee]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Strong Romance
Published: 2017-03-19T18:30:00+00:00

Jules was busily pacing the floor still. Or, at least, doing an approximation of pacing. He was walking with a bit of a limp since I’d buried my heel in his leg.

Good, I thought. He’d messed up my damn dress. There was no way I could even return it in this state. There were drops of my blood staining the polka dots; the bottom of the skirt was filthy from sitting on this grubby warehouse floor.

I was happy for him to keep pacing. The more distracted he was, the less chance he might catch me trying to work my way free of the thin rope tied around my wrists and ankles. I could tell by looking at the knots that Jules—or whoever had tied them—had not made it far in the Boy Scouts. The knots were sloppy and juvenile, the work of someone who hadn’t tied many before.

There was a bit more give on the ones at my ankles. The roughness of the rope was irritating as I wriggled my ankles whenever I was sure Jules wasn’t watching, but the burns it would inevitably leave were a small price for freeing myself.

I had hoped for a little while that Dominic might come and rescue me and while I still prayed that he would, I wasn’t going to wait to find out. I needed to get myself out of this mess and away safely.

The rope at my ankles was almost free now but I had to stop for a second as Jules started to pace back in my direction.

I cleared my throat.

“My mouth is a little dry, Jules. Is there any water around here?”

He started a little, seemingly surprised that I was still in the same spot he’d left me. I gave him a reassuring smile, putting my best effort into it so that the smile met my eyes. I could thank Tyra Banks for that; who would have thought all those episodes of America’s Next Top Model and the lessons on smizing would be paying off now?

“I don’t know. I’ll have to go look.” He hesitated. I knew he was asking himself whether it was a good idea to leave me alone. I intercepted the thought.

“Don’t worry.” I held up my tied wrists at him. “It’s not like I’m going anywhere in a hurry.” I forced a little, charming laugh. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

He rocked forward on one foot, took a step forward, and then stopped. After a second of thinking about it, he nodded. “Okay. I’ll be right back. Stay here.”

I kept that sweet smile on my face until he turned away and then watched as he meandered about the wide open space, peering through glass-fronted doors. Finally, he stepped into one that looked like it had what he was searching for.

The warehouse we were in was massive. The ground floor, where my ass was being held captive, was maybe 5,000 square feet or more, with a second floor you could reach by metal stairs.

It looked like the warehouse had been used for a production line at some stage.

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