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“But I must. I can’t take any chances. Now sit tight for a moment.”
He got out of the car. I wanted to make a break for it, but I’d get my feet in high heels and thick mud.
I unbuckled and went for the phone in my laptop as Vale rounded the back of the F5. With trembling fingers, I held up the cell—no signal whatsoever. Not a single fucking bar.
The door flung open and he yanked me out, my bag falling to the wet ground, the contents scattering. My phone dropped from my shaking hands. He gripped my arm firmly and forced me toward the house. I stumbled along the way. His fingertips dug deeper into my flesh, despite the suit jacket I wore.
We took the steps to the porch and crossed to the door. The inside wasn’t finished. There were still exposed two-by-fours and tresses. Weaving our way through the mess of sawdust and plastic sheets, we reached the staircase with a metal railing on one side, clearly a safety measure while the banister was being built.
I let out a strained laugh. There was nothing safe about this scenario. Not for me.
The landing at the top of the stairs opened into an enormous room. In the middle sat a chair. At its legs were piles of rope coiled high.
I screamed and tried to wrest free of Vale’s grip. He hauled me up against him and said, “Don’t make this difficult. We want our money. My father’s investments and assets are challenging to liquidate. Profits from 10,000 Lux are to be paid out quarterly. We need access to that capital. I need access to that capital.”
“And you’re willing to tie me up and hold me for ransom to get it?”
“I am willing—and have the authority—to do whatever’s necessary.” His intimidating stare unnerved me further.
“Whose authority?” I managed to ask, the fear distinct in my voice.
“The others who were part of the investment group for the hotel.”
“You’re the one behind all the problems on the property? On their behalf?”
“They paid me to persuade Dane to bring them back into the fold. He’s already figured all of this out and has been wreaking his own havoc. No one’s happy about that. It also causes trouble for me. So now it’s time to put an end to this, once and for all.”
I did not like the sound of that. Did they intend a hostile takeover of the Lux? What if Dane flat-out refused? What if Ethan, Qadir, and Nikolai stood their ground as well? Would this man really shoot me? Or leave me here? It could be two weeks before the construction crew returned. There was still rain in the forecast, since we had experienced a record-breaking monsoon season.
None of this boded well for me. Or Dane.
So as Vale slipped his gun into its shoulder holster, I lifted my foot and brought my four-inch heel down hard, stabbing his toe.
He let out an agonized growl and released me. I ran straight to the staircase. Reaching it before he reacted. I kicked off my shoes and had almost made the first step when he grabbed a fistful of my hair and tugged heartily so that I cried out from the pain.
He jerked me to him and ground out, “Big mistake, Miss DeMille.” He turned me to him and the back of his hand struck my cheek so hard, I screamed and fell facedown to the wood-covered floor several feet from him.
I lay there, stunned, an excruciating throbbing spreading from my cheekbone to my eye and temple. The thumping in my head was deafening and I felt disoriented and hazy.
“You stupid girl,” Vale spat. “The last thing you want is to make me angry.” His threatening voice rang in my ears.
I tried to latch on to the sound. Tried to let it pull me from the fog and the sharp ache.
His heavy footsteps came closer. I couldn’t imagine what he’d do now that I’d pissed him off. I didn’t want to find out.
Spying a small piece of discarded board within inches of my hand, I waited until he descended upon me and clutched my hair again to pull me up. As my body lifted, my arm shot out. I grabbed the wood and slammed it against his jaw with all the strength I possessed, fueled by rage.
“You fucking bitch!” he yelled as he reeled, letting go once more.
I didn’t wait around. I was on my feet again, miraculously, because the throbbing intensified when I moved. I raced to the stairs, made it to the midway landing, and was on my way down when he shoved hard against my back. I screamed again as I tumbled to the first floor, my head smacking against the damn metal safety railing that mocked me.
I might have lost consciousness for a moment or two. Huddled in a heap of sheer agony, I could barely breathe. It hurt too much.
“I’ll give you credit for fighting back,” he said in a deadly tone. “But you picked the wrong man to go toe-to-toe with.”
Ripping me from the floor with his hand wrapped around my arm, he pushed me through the shell of a living room. Dry lightning crackled and lit the clouds as we passed by a window. He shoved me against a two-by-four that helped to form an entryway into the dining room or den. I clutched it for support, because my knees were about to give out on me.
My body was wracked with pain, radiating unbearably from head to toe.
