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“How are you holding up?” Sweetheart.
My hands splayed his chest. “Franco, you don’t have to call me sweetheart. No one’s listening.”
His lips grazed my earlobe. “I’ll call you whatever I want. You’re my captive.”
Our eyes locked. The masks made the stare down that much more intense.
“Be a good girl and I might make you come later tonight.”
“Franco, I’ll be on my best behavior.” I smiled sweetly.
He smirked. “That’s what I like to hear.” Franco escorted me down a long hallway.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“To have a little fun.”
Franco turned the knob of one of the four red doors. I peeked over my shoulder. Ettore and Bonnie stood at the end of the hallway.
“Derwin, how are you?”
The man braced his hands on the arms of the chair from his spot behind the desk. “Franco, I paid the loan in full last week.”
Franco released my hand and closed the door behind me. “You did. But Derwin, I’m hearing chatter about plotting my demise.”
Franco ambled toward him as he shoved his large hands into a pair of black leather gloves.
Beads of sweat formed on Derwin’s forehead.
Franco shrugged. “If you’ve done nothing wrong, then you have nothing to worry about.”
Franco glanced in my direction. “Kennedy, are you good at handling any other weapons besides guns?”
“I’ve played with knives for a while, but I’m rusty.”
Franco tossed the switchblade, and I caught it midair. Flicking the blade, I admired it.
“This is a nice blade. Remind me to tell you how I got out of Columbia alive.” I sat my tiny clutch on a nearby table.
Franco’s lips tipped up at one end. “I will.”
I stepped toward the middle of the room. Derwin sniffled in his tailored suit behind the big desk. “Is this your party?”
“No, it’s my wife’s.” His face turned a dark shade of crimson.
Tilting my head to the side, I smirked. “Are you using the money from the galas for your own personal pleasure?”
His eyes widened, and he slid a meaty hand across his forehead. “I own a successful company.”
“You didn’t answer my question.” I waved the knife in his direction.
“Sorry, I’m getting off topic. Sometimes, I can see what others can’t. Call it a gift.”
The switchblade left my hand, slamming into his shoulder.
“Ah,” he hollered.
Franco pressed the Glock muzzle against his temple. “Shut the fuck up before I have her pin your balls to the chair.”
