Read Online Her Hollywood Hitman: A Dark Romantic Suspense by Imani King - Free Book Online Page A

assessing what I might do.  

    “I got plenty of money. Maybe more than you, you sick little motherfucker. You seem awfully calm for a man whose daughter has been taken from him.”

    “Money doesn’t mean a goddamn thing, and you know it.” The little prick’s bald head was turning red. It was a sore point for him that I had my own empire, but I kept it under wraps, just like everything else in my life. That is, until Gabi came along. “What I’ve got on you… it could put you away forever. So you do exactly what I say, just like always, got it?”

    “Damn you, Art. You know I know your secret too.”  

    He waved his hand in the air. “No one would believe a dumb criminal like you. A dumb, dirty criminal, just like your old man. You got no proof.” He coughed a little and ran hand over his bright red head.  

      “This whole thing is fucking strange, and you know it,” I said. “We should probably have someone else involved to ensure Gabi’s safety. Which seems to be the least of your concerns.”

    “Goddammit man, do you have to push me on everything? Don’t tell me how I feel or don’t feel about my own goddamn daughter.” Art’s brow furrowed, and he glared at me as I paced back and forth in a panic. It didn’t seem like he had the right fucking idea. Gabi was gone. She was in the hands of someone who had kidnapped her, someone who could hurt her. It was like the fucking man had no feelings. Not a damn thing when it came to his daughter. “Just get these people the fucking money. I tell you they called me... You better fucking believe that they called me. Get them the million bucks. It’s here in this goddamn case. It’s probably these assholes from the cartel, but I have no idea. Just get the fuck out of here and deliver it to them.”  

    The silver case sat on Art’s lounge chair. A case, heavy with a fucking million dollars. How had this all happened so quickly? How had he even gotten the money? I thought he was hard up these days, trying to make money off of Gabi. But hell, what the fuck did I know about any of this? I had no idea who had taken Gabi, and I was assuming Art didn’t either. In cases like this, people usually made the person with the cash sweat a little, get a little bit desperate. Art was angry, but he wasn’t desperate. And he already had the suitcase full of cash ready before I’d gotten here. How had these people gotten to him ... and why had he agreed so quickly?  

    “They said they’ll meet you somewhere out in the desert. Once you’re headed out of town, they’ll text you the address where you need to go. No cops involved. It’ll be a clean trade. Get the girl back, give them the money, and get the fuck back here.”  

    “Art, what the fuck? None of this sounds good. And you’re putting me in a damn bad situation. I’ll be out in the middle of nowhere with no back up.” I paced back and forth, keeping a keen eye on the suitcase. I had my own amount of money ... but I made a habit not to handle this much cash at a time. Especially where other career criminals were concerned. And there were too many damn variables. And Gabi. Fuck. Gabi was involved. There was no goddamn way that any of this was a good idea. I had the fleeting notion that the police... or the fucking FBI... should probably be involved in getting this sorted out. But Art wouldn’t touch that with a thirty foot goddamn pole.  

    I’d be doing this on my own. Bringing his girl home. And it seemed like I was the only one who gave a damn about her safety.  

    I thought of Gabi, her beautiful body sprawled out on my bed. Her full lips, and that smooth dark skin that came completely from her mother. There was so much beauty in her I almost couldn’t bear it. And she was in someone else’s hands. Someone who didn’t care about her. Someone who could beat her up, or starve her... or fucking worse. I thought about the straps falling down on that green dress, the producer looking at me