Reign A Romance Anthology - Nina Levine Page 0,343

It’s self-centered to feel such vanity when there are much bigger things in the world to worry about. My hair is fixable over time. Losing my mom to breast cancer and my dad to the virus wasn’t fixable.

Bradford grimaces while his eyes soften. He takes the envelope resting on the top of the dresser, handing it to me. “You might want to sit down.” Shit! Is it that bad?

My initial response is to want to scowl at him before snatching the envelope from his hand, but I check myself, taking a deep breath, and accept the offered envelope. “I can stand, thank you.”

I peel the envelope open and read the message addressed to my stepfather.

Then I reread it slower. I’m confused by most of it. Does Lorenzo owe this man a lot of money? The guy will have us killed if he doesn’t pay up?

“I need to speak with my stepfather and hear his side of the story.”

“I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to stop them from hurting you. Hemsworth had arrived to take me home when I found you unconscious. He called a lady doctor friend of his to take a look at you to make sure you were not hurt badly. The thugs made a mess of your hair, leaving random longer strands while shaving most of your hair off, scattering it around the inside of the dumpster. It was kinder to complete the job. The lady doctor bathed you and—”

“Shaved my head neatly.” I finish his sentence. “Hold on, back it up a second. You said you found me in the alleyway. Did you find me inside the dumpster?”

“Aah… yes. I may have left that part off earlier.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have accused you. It was rude of me.”

“No need for apologies. You got a shock, and you reacted. You’ve had a tough night.”

Jesus! While I was left vulnerable in a dumpster, two men laid their hands on me. They had the power to kill me, but luckily their orders were to rough me up.

Did Lorenzo deliberately leave me vulnerable tonight?

Would he have knowingly done that to me?

Nausea overwhelms my system. I clamp a hand over my mouth, racing for the toilet, dropping to my knees.

Reality bites back like a bitch.

I’m retching up a stomach of mostly liquid.

“Can I—?”

“Please… wait for me in the bar,” I cough out while blindly tugging on the toilet roll, tearing a length of it to wipe my mouth.

And then I’m retching again.

6

King

I grab the suit bag hanging on the back of Queenie’s bathroom door and the polished black boots neatly placed on the floor and walk into Queenie’s bedroom to get changed, giving her privacy to throw up her guts without me hovering, but I’m close enough if she needs me.

I had taken a shower in Queenie’s ensuite earlier. I was starting to get dressed in fresh clothes that Hemsworth had picked up for me when Queenie began crying out in her sleep—at least I got my boxers on before taking her into my arms, drawing her out of the nightmare that was plaguing her.

The Queenie pre-attack was sassy, funny, and sexy. Exactly who I thought I needed to distract me for one night, but now I find I want to hang around and make sure she stays safe, which is totally out of character for me.

I’m not a tavern dweller. I’m the seat at the top restaurant, a top-shelf whiskey-drinking businessman with a penchant for the finer things in life.

Now?

After one evening in Queenie’s presence, I’m feeling possessive and protective and a whole bunch of nonsense emotions I don’t want to deal with right now.

Queenie’s got her post-attack feelings to deal with, and I’m going to be giving her more to adjust to sooner than later because I’ve been busy while she was sleeping. Decisions got made without her knowledge, and there’s no turning back the clock.

That’s twice now Queenie’s punched me in the face. I’ll be best prepared for the third time, which will inevitably happen within the next half-hour.

Queenie’s about to gain a new neighbor. She’s going to fight me on it, probably literally, but I have to ensure her safety.

I haven’t slept. I collected as much information as I could on Lorenzo Rossi a.k.a, Gino Carrollo, and Queenie. Hemsworth called in a few favors, and I called in mine. Nothing like sweet-talking Xander Black, my oldest childhood friend, into being on board. He wants the scum off the streets as

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