old mattress, muttering about hidden

r side, slid to the back of her jeans. Her fingers found the small, frayed hole in the back pocket. She pushed the cool, smooth blac

ing place, a screech of tires outside

ur worthless ass ou

ent pale. It was Cody White, the loc

door, his voice tight with panic. He abandone

ands, cursing Dal

This was he

house as Cody and his goons s

rom the porch. "If the son can't pay, the daddy

n the front of the house.

e swollen with years of humidity. With a surge of adrenaline, she put her should

few feet to the packed dirt below. She could make it. She had to make it. The w

stomach as her ankle twisted on the uneven dirt. A jolt of pain shot up her leg, but nothing felt wrong-nothing beyond the ankle. She pressed her palm flat against h

e

she heard the splintering crash of the front door giving way, followed by shouts and the sound of a str

pital, Theodore Donovan Sr. lay propped against a mountain of pillows. An array of mo

"Adrian," he rasped, looking at his grandson who stood

y lights below, his face impassive. He picked up an apple

d, his voice a low, cool baritone. He began to peel the apple, the blade moving

ing to one of profound sorrow. "My only regret," he sighed, placing a hand over

st immediately marry Sloane Sterling, the daughter of another powerful New York f

it into perfect, even wedges and arranged them on a small

cuffs of his bespoke suit jacket. His ice-gray eyes, when the

eting," he said si

toward the door. The old man's frustration boiled over.

y hit the large red

the suite. The door burst open and a team of n

grand performance h