Bad Boy of Wall Street: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance

Bad Boy of Wall Street: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance by Samantha Westlake

Book: Bad Boy of Wall Street: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance by Samantha Westlake Read Free Book Online
Authors: Samantha Westlake
still flopped in his chair behind his fancy desk, and put on a grin. "Hell, it looks like we're on the same side, aren't we? We both want this shitty trader of yours to give back what he stole, and then maybe turn up floating in a river somewhere."
    "Yes, we're on the same side," Cartmann echoed back. Hell, he'd say anything right now. He'd give his own mother over to this intimidating hitman if it meant that he'd avoid that fish hook sliding into a finger, a cheek, an eye-
    Hook glanced over at the little bit of metal in his fingers. He wouldn't need to use it now, it seemed. Still, he had a new target in mind, and he'd get his chance to put his skills to use.
    He glanced over at Cartmann as he tucked the hooks back into their little packet in his wallet. "Now, there's no need for anyone else to hear anything about this, is there?" he asked, raising his eyebrows.
    It was almost comical how fast he saw Cartmann's head shake back and forth. The idiot would probably give himself motion sickness.
    "Great." Hook started to turn to leave, but he paused as his eyes swept across the trader's desk.
    He reached out and picked up the nameplate sitting on the desk. It had the same gold sheen as the plate bolted to the wall outside, and the weight of it in Hook's hand confirmed his guess. "Souvenir," he said to Cartmann, grinning as he hefted the chunk of metal.
    For just a second, he thought that the trader might grow a spine and protest. The man apparently thought better, however, his self-preservation instinct overriding his anger at this brazen theft. "Sure, take it," he said, although the words came out through gritted teeth.
    Hook whistled to himself as he strolled out of the office, tossing the nameplate idly in his hand. He didn't pause until he got to the receptionist's desk. Just above her desk, he'd noticed that Cartmann Securities had a large glass sign installed, with their name sand-blasted onto the big sheet of glass.
    The receptionist wasn't around, so Hook spun and hurtled the nameplate overhand, straight into the big glass sign. He grinned happily as it shattered with an ear-splitting crash.
    There. Maybe next time, they'd put the damn sign on the outside.
    He headed back down to his car, turning over this new name in his head. Rob Hendricks. The thief.
    Hook would find him, soon enough. And the last thing that Rob Hendricks would see would be Hook's grinning face, his hands tightening around the asshole's neck.
     

Chapter Eleven
    *
    I woke up the next morning feeling surprisingly refreshed and alert, the first rays of the sun streaming in through the window next to my bed and casting glimmers across my pillow. I blinked and sat up so that the light didn't go right into my eyes.
    After getting back from the beach, I climbed into the shower in the little house to wash off the sand, but soon found myself all but staggering with exhaustion. I barely managed to dry myself off and pull on some flannel shorts and a top before I fell into bed and passed out.
    Now, I rolled out of bed, wincing as my bare feet touched the freezing cold wooden floorboards of my bedroom. I wished that I'd brought a pair of slippers. Of course, that would require me to own a pair of slippers.
    If I was staying here for more than another day or so, I decided as I hopped out of my room, I would go see if I could find a cheap pair in town.
    I made it down to the kitchen without hearing anyone else moving around in the house. I could really use a cup of coffee, but I didn't know if there were any nearby shops where I could get a cheap cup. I did notice a coffee maker sitting out on the counter, one of the classic types with a reservoir of water and an opening for the grounds. That meant that there had to be some filters and grounds around, right?
    I found the canister in the pantry cupboards after a bit of slightly guilty digging around, with the filters stacked on top. I pulled out a paper filter, filled it halfway full of coffee grounds, and then

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