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“I don’t beg,” Mr. Fucking Gorgeous replies, a mischievous grin rising on his stupidly handsome face. “Not unless you want me to.”
I snort-laugh, and suddenly, I do not care how good-looking this jerk is. “I’m not climbing into the back seat of your limo with you.”
He feigns offense as he dips me. “I drive a Lamborghini.”
He’s staring at me as he pulls me back up, and for a moment, I imagine those lips pressing against mine. I bet he’s a good kisser.
Now, I’m ready to offend. “I don’t care what car you drive or how good-looking you are.”
“So you admit it?” He smirks, and I feel a gush tremor from the depth of my core. “I’m good-looking?”
“Is this how you flirt?” I gawk. “Is this your move? You’re hot, okay?” My eyes search the guests until they find the scary man still holding my camera. I have to get that back. “But I’ve been burned today already. So, I’m here to work and nothing else. So, excuse me …”
“Andrei,” he answers, taking my hand before I can rush off. A delicious warmth spreads from his fingers to mine and for a moment, I don’t want to leave his side. “I can make you forget him. Just say the word, and you’ll never worry about him again.”
Thank God a cramp pierces through me, reminding me that I’m supposed to be furious at all men who walk the earth. Taking my chance, I dart away and snatch my camera out of the scary man’s hand. He gives me a surprised look, but does nothing when Andrei nods.
Andrei.
Of course, Mr. Fucking Gorgeous has a sexy name. I guess if he hits on one of the girls here, he’ll either have to marry her or kill her family. That’s how it works with criminals, right? But seeing as I’m the help, no such issue exists. I have no intention of being another notch on his bedpost, no matter how much I want to see what’s under his sexy, sharp suit.
With my camera focused on the main table only, I take another shot of the bride with her dazzling smile.Don’t let jealousy ruin your day, Paige. I need the money, especially now.That’s right—think positive.You don’t want to get into bed with criminals.I’m a decent person who follows the rules, like Dad.The rules suck,Paige. Agreed, the rules have kept me poor and single.True. Maybe I should fuck Andrei in his Lamborghini.Ask him to park it in front of Carole’s house, so Tim can watch. Not a bad idea …
Smirking, I take solace in my internal dialogue and aim my camera for another shot.
But the bride’s eyes suddenly go wide with shock, and joy is replaced with terror. There’s a loudbang!Her hands reach out as her body jerks rapidly, like a doll being yanked on a string. A large spot creeps instantly across her white dress, soaking it in bright red.
Then she slumps forward onto the table, dead, and hysterical screams begin to drown out the music.
Chapter 4
Paige
The rapidbangof gunshots sends people running toward the exits. A man falls dead on the floor. His limbs are loose and bent where he lies in a swiftly growing puddle of blood. Guards in black suits yank free concealed guns from their jackets and take aim at gunmen dressed as servers.
More people tumble to the floor. Some are screaming. Others are motionless.
I’m not thinking straight as I also take aim with my camera. Watching this horror from behind the lens makes it seem surreal as I mentally distance myself from the insanity. It’s a wedding! How could this happen at a wedding?
High-pitched shrieks drown out cries of pain as bodyguards desperately shout for calm in the chaos. Guests rush the doors while others fall to the floor and crawl under tables. Sturdy tables topple over along with chairs. Vases of roses crash to the floor and send shards of glass rushing forward.
Through the lens, I point my camera at the old man who glared at me. His cold eyes stare but see nothing. His wife’s sweep of silvery blonde hair and her navy dress are no longer beside him. She’s nowhere to be seen. A bullet whizzes past my ear, and the old man crumples forward. His death brings me back to my senses.
I could die. I’m not a bystander. I’m in this mess and I could die!
A server turns toward me; his brows furrow for a moment as if in recognition, and then the gun rises up. I stare helplessly at the black hole of the barrel. My hands start to shake, but my feet refuse to move. Inhaling, I accept fate. Guess I have the answer to the question of whether my day could get worse.
An ear-splitting bang rises up, and the floor races toward me as the gun goes off again. My face is pinned to the scratchy carpet, and I can’t move.
I’m still alive!I gasp as my hands shakily roam across my body.But was I shot?And then I’m aware of something—rather someone—on top of me.
Andrei.
His large, sturdy body covers mine from above, and for a moment, I smell the hint of his cologne wafting from his shirt.
“Stay down,” he hisses. I listen, not daring to move, not even to take a breath.
He lifts off me and grimaces in pain. The shoulder of his jacket has been torn into shreds. Black threads shine with blood as his shoulder turns ruby red. He reaches up with his good arm, takes aim with the gun in his hand, and I hear a clap of thunder.
