“You?” I spit in total surprise and just a twinge of annoyed disdain. “You. Of course you’re here. But why are you here? And don’t you dare touch me like that again.”

Dominick raises an eyebrow as he stares at me, still toying absently with the knife in his hands. If he was anyone else, I would be worried about him cutting his hands or slicing off a thumb or whatever. But I know without even having to ask that Dom is the kind of guy who can absolutely play around with a knife and not injure himself. Even right now, in this tense, risky moment, all my mind can think about is whether he would be just as deft with that knife in bed.

Come on, Hadley. Get it together, I scold myself.

“I know why I’m here, but I don’t know why you’re here,” he replies coolly. “So it would appear we both have questions.”

“I don’t have to answer to you. You lost those rights the other morning,” I hiss icily, folding my arms over my chest as I balance back against the balcony. I gaze unblinkingly at Dominick, not willing to cede him even an inch. He may have the size and weapon advantage over me, and I know damn well that if he decides he wants to take me out, he can do so easily. Very easily. Effortlessly. With relish. I have no doubt in my mind that Dom has done much worse for much little provocation.

“No, that’s right. You don’t answer to me, but you’re not a free agent, either,” he says pointedly. “You have someone you do answer to.”

“No. I work for myself. I follow my own passions. Nobody owns me,” I retort, defiantly raising my chin and squinting at him venomously.

To my horror, Dominick does the one thing that I absolutely cannot abide.

He looks at me with something akin to pity on his handsome face. I can feel my whole body tensing up, my heart fluttering. Rage bubbles up inside my chest and it’s all I can do to keep from shaking a fist in his face or cursing him out. I don’t take pity. Not from anyone. And especially not from a guy who played me like a one-night-stand.

“Don’t look at me that way,” I protest. “You don’t know a damn thing about me, Dominick. You don’t know my life. You don’t know who I associate with. You don’t know me. Now, get out of here so we can keep it that way.”

Dominick sighs exasperatedly, shaking his head. “You know I can’t leave here, Hadley,” he says, lowering his voice to that raspy, gravelly growl that sets my blood on fire. I feel my body stirring. Coming to life at the mere sound of his voice in my ears. I know if I just took a few steps closer, I would feel the power, the heat radiating off of his incredible body. I could smell his masculine scent, that musky pine smell that intoxicates me faster than a tequila shot.

“Why not?” I ask, annoyed at how petulant my voice sounds. Like a stubborn little girl. What is it about this man that makes me wilt like this? He makes me feel vulnerable in ways I never even thought possible. I hate that he has so much hold over me. It’s not fair.

“I’m not holding this knife for a whittling competition,” Dom replies slyly.

“What’s your point, huh? Why are you here? This is… this is private property,” I reply, unable to think of any other way to retaliate.

“Oh, and you’re the owner, are you? Hadley, it sure looks like we’re both trespassing here to me. Only one of us has a knife, and the other has nothing,” he points out. “Now, it’s time to talk. You need to tell me where Carl Owens is. If he’s not home, then where the hell did he go?”

“Right, like I’d have any idea where that man goes when he disappears,” I shoot back bitterly. “It’s not like he gives me regular check-ins or anything. Carl Owens does whatever the hell he wants to do and he doesn’t tell a soul about it. Not even me.”

“Does that hurt?” Dom asks quietly.

I frown at him as though he’s lost his entire damn mind.

“What? Does what hurt?” I snort.

“Does it hurt that he watches you like a wolf stalking a doe through the woods? That you have to answer to his every beck and call? Tell me, Hadley: when your boss tells you to jump, do you ask him how high?” Dominick says.

My mouth falls open as I gape at him. “You fucking jerk. Don’t you talk to me that way.”

“So, do you let Carl talk to you like that?” he pushes me further.

“This conversation is over. I don’t have to stand here and let you insult me to my face. I have—I have other things to do. Places to go. You and your knife can do whatever you want, you psycho. I’m leaving,” I insist. I turn on my heel to try and head down the stairs, thinking I’ll just take the back exit through the gate on the other side of the pool. But before I can take a full step, Dominick grabs my hand and pulls me back, making me twirl slightly as I face him, our bodies only mere inches apart. The knife hangs at his side, thank god, but I can still feel every thump of my frantic heart in my throat.

“I can’t let you leave like this, Hadley,” he murmurs solemnly. “Your boss is a bad man. I know you have to know that by now. Owens fucked up. There comes a point when you lose so much money there’s no hope of winning it back. And even though he’s got you and the other girls running around frantic to earn him money, he’s not paying his own dues. I’m sure you understand how that doesn’t fly.”

“With the mafia,” I fill in, looking up at him wide-eyed. “Is that why he’s gone AWOL?”

Dominick nods slowly. “Yes. He owes money. A lot of money. And the interest he owes can’t be paid in cash, no matter how much you win for him.”

“So he’s supposed to pay with... what? Blood?” I murmur breathlessly, the whole picture starting to come together in my head as Dom stares down at me, those brown eyes ablaze.

“Your boss is a bad man,” he reiterates, “but mine is worse.”

“And Carl owes your boss money. A lot of it,” I say.

“Yes. Too much. That’s why I’m here,” he replies.

“To kill him,” I whisper. “Holy shit.”

“Exactly,” says Dom smoothly, without an ounce of affectation.

“I can’t let you do that,” I tell him, furrowing my brow. “He’s a dick, for sure, and the way he treats us is criminal. But murder? You really think that’s what he deserves?”

“What do you think he deserves?” he asks, quirking one thick, dark eyebrow.

“I don’t know. But he probably deserves to go to jail, not just to be stabbed to death by a stranger in his own home,” I tell him, although the longer I try to go on defending my boss, the less I want to. He’s never done a damn thing for me that wasn’t actually for him. He runs us hard. He treats us like chattel. For all intents and purposes, I should hate the guy. I guess I do.

“Come on, Hadley, it’s not that difficult,” Dom insists. “The rules are fast and hard in your world, and even more so in mine. Owens knew the risk when he started toying with the mafia. We don’t accept late payments.”

“So, you’re mafia, too? I guess you are as much of a loser as the girls said you were,” I retort seethingly. He doesn’t seem offended, more like just slightly amused.

“You told your friends about me?” he asks, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I apologize for not making a better first impression.”

“You fucked the life out of me and took off in the morning,” I state matter-of-factly.

“Well, duty called. Not that it’s an excuse, but it’s an explanation. Sorry for demanding my shirt back so rudely. It looked a hell of a lot better on you, but I couldn’t exactly report to my boss without a shirt on. That would be a more interesting world if I could, but no such luck,” Dom quipped, taking a step back from me.

I chew my lip thoughtfully, my thoughts spinning out in wild circles.

“What are you thinking right now?” he asks, peering at me warily.

“I’m thinking that if you want to ever see me again and make up for the way you took off the other morning, you’re going to have to come clean. And I mean, about everything. No more secrets. No more hopping out of the shadows holding a knife,” I tell him, putting my hands on my hips.

He smirks. “Sweetheart, I’ve already told you everything. It’s a simple story. I work security at the casino, but the casino is run by the mafia. I’m an enforcer. When they need a rule or a deal enforced, I am the one they call on to get it done.”

“So, sleeping with me was just a ploy to get closer to my boss?” I suggest.

Dom looks disgusted by the idea. “No. God, no. You and your colleagues are not my target. You’re the pawns. I need the king.”

“I don’t take well to being called a pawn,” I mutter, glaring.

A broad, mischievous smile spreads slowly across his face. “Well, would you rather be a queen?” Dominick insinuates, looking me up and down.

I feel an unbelievable wave of tingly warmth pass over my body. But I have to hold my ground. I can’t let my feelings for him get in the way. This man is here to murder my boss. Come on, Hadley, get it together!

“Queen to a killer? Well, I have to say it’s not the fairytale ending I used to dream about as a little girl,” I said sarcastically. “Why can’t you just... scare him? Get him to leave Vegas, keep out of your boss’ hair.”

“Hadley, if I don’t do this, they’ll just send someone else after him. Someone worse. Someone much more sadistic than I am. I’m here for a paycheck, but there are those who would do my job just for the thrill of getting blood on their hands. Is that what you want?” he tells me.

“There’s got to be some other solution,” I protest, shaking my head so that my fiery red hair bounces over my shoulders. “Besides, if you kill him, how can I know you won’t come after me and my girls next? We’re associates of Carl. Is the mafia picking us off one by one?”

“No. You’re not involved. You’re small fry,” he says, then winces a little. “I don’t mean it to be offensive. I just mean that you’re not on their radar. Not yet. But if you continue to stand here and prevent me from carrying out my orders… that could change. I tell you that as a warning, Hadley. Don’t let your boss’s fuckup get you dirtied up, too.”

“Dom, this is fucked up. You’re not a killer. You can’t just... just... take someone’s life like it’s nothing, like it’s just something you have to do at your boring nine-to-five.”

“What else would I do? Just scare him out of town? Lie to my boss?” Dominick says.

“Yes. Exactly. All of that,” I reply hastily.

“You’re making this very difficult for me, you know that?” he says to me in a way that tells me he might actually be considering my words.

Dom is about to say something else when suddenly, my cell phone rings again. I hold up a finger to shush him and answer the phone, noticing with a chill down my spine that it’s a number I don’t recognize.

“Hello?” I answer softly, desperately.

“Hadley! I did what you said! I got away! I’m in a gas station, in the desert!” She sounds frantic, her breaths coming through the receive roughly.

“You escaped? How? Wait, no, that doesn’t matter. Where are you? I’ll come get you. Just hang in there, okay?” I tell her quickly, watching the look on Dom’s face change out of the corner of my eye.

“What? This payphone keeps beeping at me! I can’t hear you, Hadley!”

“Hold on, hon, just stay on the line,” I command her, but it’s like I jinx it, because a moment later the line cuts out again. And goes dead. I look at Dom in desperation, shaking my head as the words fail to come out of my mouth. I’m split. I’m being torn in two different directions. If I stay here, I can possibly prevent Dom from killing my boss, but I’ll lose my chance to save Vanessa. But if I leave to try and track down Vanessa… Dom might go against his word and kill Carl.

What the hell am I supposed to do?

Can I trust Dominick not to kill him if I leave?