Total pages in book: 181
Estimated words: 171979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 860(@200wpm)___ 688(@250wpm)___ 573(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 171979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 860(@200wpm)___ 688(@250wpm)___ 573(@300wpm)
His jaw flexed over and over again until the elevator came to its stop and the doors swung open. He stayed in place, letting her go first, deciding to finally speak only as she passed him.
“I’m not a cheater.”
“Yeah, sure, buddy,” she sarcastically agreed with a pat to his back before she disappeared off the elevator.
Looking heavenward, he spoke to the Big Man upstairs, hoping to bypass a confession in his near future.
I’m going to kill her if You don’t.
ELEVEN
THE BOOGIEMAN AND HIS SLY MINION
“Come in, Ms. Monroe.”
Chills coated her body from just his voice alone, still sight unseen. She had been given the pleasure of never having seen the man claimed as the Boogieman in her life, even though she had worked across the street from him for six months. Now, only a door separated them, and she was called upon by name.
Having only “heard” of him was probably what scared her the most. She hoped putting a face to the name might humanize him, make him less frightening.
It was like the final boss fight in a video game; you feared getting to the end of the story and not being ready to battle them, but it turned out, most of the time, they looked ridiculous, and you had nothing to fear after all. However, that wasn’t the case when Sal revealed what was behind the door.
It was a large office with tall windows showcasing the beauty of Kansas City from this vantage point. An oversized wooden desk sat in the room, and behind it sat an impending man with eyes that complemented the city lights down below. With one look, he gave you a good reason to fear him. He sent any goose bumps she had into a frozen frost, so much so that Sal had to push her forward and into his office with a firm hand on her back, and then she was finally in the presence of the Boogieman and his sly minion.
“Hello, Ms. Monroe,” the Caruso boss greeted her coldly, only further giving her a reason to fear him.
The worst part about him, though? It was his looks. Devilishly handsome. As a woman, it made you want to reach out and touch him to see if he was real, but your instincts fought every ounce of that, knowing who he truly was. He was frightening and beautiful at the same time, making him hold up to the name of being the most dangerous man in all of Kansas City.
His blue-green eyes that were simply terrifying traveled down to the object in her hands. “Is there a reason you’re carrying a bat through my Casino Hotel?”
Nervously grasping it in both hands, she didn’t know how to tell him it was because she knew exactly who he was and the kind of establishment she was coming into.
“I see.” Lucca nodded, seeing the hidden answer. “Please, sit.”
It was hard not to obey what sounded like an order from him, so she slowly took one of the two chairs in front of his desk before he continued.
“You are aware of who I am, then?”
Valerie nodded, both of them knowing it wasn’t just his surname he was insinuating.
“Well, it was either very brave of you to bring in a weapon … or stupid.”
Unfortunately, she agreed, and hearing the word brave finally made her enough so to speak.
“I suppose so.”
Leaning back in his chair, he studied her for a moment. “Something tells me you are not stupid, Ms. Monroe.”
“Valerie,” she offered. “You can call me Valerie. I think bailing me out for two million dollars gives you that right.”
A smile tilted his lips for a mere second, and she wasn’t sure she liked it. She much preferred him without the deadly smile. It somehow made him even better-looking, and that wasn’t something she wanted to think.
“I suppose it should,” he agreed before picking up a pack of cigarettes and lifting them. “Do you mind?”
“Not at all.” She waved her hand slightly, hoping he’d blow the nicotine in her direction to calm her nerves.
When he lit the glorious end up, she contemplated asking the Boogieman for one herself.
Relaxing into his chair from the first hit, he got back to her earlier point. “Do you know why I bailed you out?”
“Trust me, Mr. Carus—”
“Lucca,” he offered back with a puff of smoke. “I think we’re both entitled to a first-name basis.”
“All right.” She cleared her throat, starting again, “Trust me, Lucca; I wouldn’t have come here to find out if I did.” Again, it was another thing she didn’t like. Using his first name. It humanized him.
He tapped some ashes off his cigarette into a crystal ash tray. “I understand you worked for the Horseshoe?”
“That’s correct.”
“Well, despite the claims being made against you by your previous employer, Sal claims you to be innocent.”