Sold: A Billionaire Bad Boy Mafia Romance by Natasha Tanner, Molly Thorne Read Free Book Online Page B

time I had sex
, I realized.
I just can’t. Other men would die to be with Veronica or Arantxa or Bibi Faire. I avoid them as much as I can.
    I think the sexual abstinence is making me crazy. That must be the reason I’m acting so dumb lately.
    That, and her big dark eyes.

11. ENCOUNTER IN BROOKLYN
    VAN
    More flowers? Another card? This kind of thing gets old fast.
    This time, they’d had the decency not to break into my apartment. I found the note when I opened the door to go outside. This one was typewritten and the address was some place in Brooklyn, well away from Tribeca.
    What is Ace up to now? Is this another way to “keep me around”?
I thought.
I hope it’s an invitation for lunch and not to see him workout and brag.
    I almost called him to ask him what drug he was on, but I finally decided against it. I would let him play his little game. I found it charming, to tell the truth.
    The place was an old building, and a modest one at that. The façade was neglected and covered in graffiti. I reread the card to make sure I hadn’t shown up in the wrong address. The block was pretty much deserted, except for some cars parked along the street.
    So what now? Will the door open on its own? Is he building a rocket in the basement?
To be standing there in front of the building, just for nothing to happen, was anticlimactic after our previous encounter at the Tribeca mansion.
    I climbed the steps to the door, rang the bell, and waited.
    Well,
something
happened.
    “Hey!”
    I turned around, alarmed, as I heard the man’s voice and, almost simultaneously, the sound of a car screeching to a halt.
    A black car with darkened windows had stopped right in front of the building, and the man inside opened the door violently and ran towards me. I recognized him: he was Jack Starr, Ace Hart’s close friend. He was holding a gun.
    “Wh-what? Nooo!” I screamed, and started running on the sidewalk, while a thousand absurd thoughts raced inside my head. He ran after me. I was so frightened I didn’t want to look anywhere but ahead; I heard other noises, people running, men yelling.
Someone come and save me
, I implored silently as I ran as fast as I could. I was about to reach the corner when the stocky man grabbed me by the arm, making me stop in my tracks and almost fall.
    “Wait!” he exclaimed. He let go of my arm and raised his hand.
    “Get away from me!” I screamed, and started running again, trying to make it to the corner. But he caught me by the arm once more and pushed me back violently. When I resisted, he tackled me and I ended up falling hands first on the floor.
    “Stay put!”
    I yelled, “Help!”, but when I looked up, he wasn’t beside me anymore. He was running towards the corner. He got there huffing and puffing, looked around, and started shooting at something or someone I couldn’t see. I yelled some more, but nobody came to help me. It was like everybody had suddenly fled, leaving the neighborhood deserted.
    Jack Starr walked back to me, his face shiny with sweat. He helped me get back on my feet. “Get in the car,” he said.
    I rubbed my hands, scratched by the fall on the sidewalk. They burned. I took a step back, then another, and a third.
    “I... I won’t,” I refused. Jack Starr approached me. My arms and legs were shaking. “What is this? Y-you...”
    “Get in the fucking car,” he said again, in a more peremptory tone. “There’s no time to argue. There could be more thugs around. Do you want your pretty face blown up?”
    “B-but I...”
    Jack Starr grappled my arm again in a decidedly non-gentle way, opened the passenger door and pushed me inside the car. He climbed in, turned on the engine, and sped away.
    “What is this?” I asked once more as the streets ran past each other through the darkened window. “Let me go.”
    “No.”
    “What is this?” I asked for a third time. “What’s happening?”
    It took him a few seconds to answer. He spoke mechanically, looking at