An arranged marriage. An illicit affair. An unforgettable passion. A forbidden love...
A spoiled socialite clashes with a streetwise mechanic who challenges the order of her privileged life while an arranged marriage threatens even more.
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The sound of the gun going off was almost deafening, Dice was so close.
Dice had shot into the wall, placing a bullet-sized hole in it.
With his eyes on me, he lowered his weapon.
"I needed that," he let out. "I fucking hate seeing women cry."
I couldn't see Kennedy when she'd broken down, but it tore my heart up hearing her beg and plead to die instead of me. Hearing how she was willing to take my place.
I'd sooner die twice than let that happen.
Dice—Cain came closer and kneeled down before me. His wrath hadn't lessened and his next move was questionable.
"I had her on her back, open for me," he said, holding his palm out for emphasis. "But she was crying for you." His eyes trailed to the necklace hanging around my neck. He took the tip of his Sig P226 and tapped the pendant. "That's when I knew I was going to kill you."
He was lucky I was tied to this chair, or else he'd be eating those words.
I had no choice but to keep my cool and bide my time as I glared into his eyes. One of his men had snuck me from behind at 7 Corners. When I'd come to it was from a fierce blow to the head, courtesy of who Dice referred to as Vino.
I didn't recognize him.
Nothing made sense as I became coherent and found myself back at the garage with Dice pacing back and forth. Beans had been leaning against the trunk of the Civic. And I found that pretty looking son of a bitch eating my sandwich as he stood a few feet away. He'd even offered me some with a smirk I wanted to knock off.
"This shit is dry," Vino complained as he helped himself to another big ass bite.
Dice looked to me. "Got any condiments inside?"
Blinking, I began to nod.
Vino clicked his tongue. "See, now you say somethin'. Shoot 'im in the knee, D."
I had no clue what was going on, until Dice said her name.
Kennedy.
Never in a million years would I have drawn the connection from Kennedy's Cain to Dice. Fucked-up Dice from Bedford Heights. Emotionless, unremorseful, no conscience having Dice.
It still didn't make sense. Kennedy said Dice had business with her father, and if the rumors I'd heard about Dice were true, it wasn't adding up.
Dice sighed. "Ungag him."
Beans ripped the tape from my mouth, leaving behind a stinging sensation.
