Page 1 of King of Shadows

Chapter 1

Chloe

Steam fills the bathroom as I step out of the shower. Nothing feels better than a hot shower after a twelve-hour shift. My back aches. All I want is to throw on something soft, sit in front of the TV, and eat the take out I ordered, until I pass out.

I barely had time for lunch. The hospital was packed today. It was as if everyone in Chicago decided to fall sick at the exact same time. And because one of the nurses had a family emergency and had to leave, we were short-staffed on top of everything else. I spent the whole shift running.

I wrap my towel around myself and make my way toward the bedroom, already thinking about putting on my softest pajamas and slathering myself in lotion.

But first, water. I’m parched. I pad into the kitchen barefoot, flip on the light, and pull the fridge open. The cold air hits my damp skin as I lift the bottle to my mouth. That is when I see him.

A man is standing in my kitchen. I freeze, the bottle in my hand stopping mid-air. He’s close. So close.

For a second, my brain doesn’t seem to process what I’m seeing. A stranger, in my apartment. And he’s bleeding.

The bottle slips slightly in my hand, and I open my mouth to scream. But I don’t get the chance, as he’s on me in an instant.

A large hand clamps over my mouth, swallowing the scream before it can escape, while his other arm wraps tightly around my middle and pulls me against him.

I struggle to get him off me but his grip only tightens. “Shh.” His voice is a deep baritone against my ear.

I kick and twist, trying to get free, but he’s too strong. I’m five-six, and I’ve never considered myself particularly small, but compared to this man, I feel tiny.

“Stop struggling.” His breath fans against the side of my neck. “It’s not going to help you.”

I keep fighting for another second before his arm tightens around my waist. “Calm the fuck down, or you’ll get hurt.”

Something about the certainty in his voice makes me stop. Because I realize there is no winning this by fighting him. He’s bigger, stronger and judging by the gun I can now feel pressing against me, far more dangerous than anyone I’ve ever encountered.

So I force myself to go still. My heart is pounding so hard I can hear it.

“That’s better.” He pauses for a moment before speaking again. “Now, I’m going to let you go, and you’re not going to scream. Nod if you understand.”

I nod quickly.

His hand slowly leaves my mouth. “Good girl.”

Something about the way he says those two words sends an unexpected little shiver through me. The words land somewhere they shouldn’t. I don’t understand why they do anything at all, considering the situation.

The moment his hand drops, I stumble several steps away from him. And turn to face him.

He’s tall. Huge, actually. He’s dressed in a suit, his white shirt stained with blood. Dark hair slightly disheveled. One hand grips a gun while the other presses against his side, where the blood is coming from.

“Please don’t hurt me.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “I don’t have any money.”

He stares at me.

“Well, I have some,” I rush on. “There’s probably about a hundred dollars in my purse. Maybe a little more. I can give you all of it.”

“I have purses too,” I add, pointing vaguely toward my bedroom. “They’re not real Louis Vuitton or Gucci, but they’re good knockoffs. I’m sure you could sell them somewhere. Maybe you could get something for them. Please. You can take whatever you want. Just don’t hurt me.”

Good one, Chloe. Now you’ve just told him he won’t get much money if he steals your purses. I glance around my tiny kitchen, as if something valuable might suddenly appear out of nowhere.

He finally speaks. “I’m not here for your money.”

Strangely, he seems a little amused. “You can keep your change. And I’m not interested in your knockoffs either.”

“Then what do you want?”