Escaping Vegas (The Inheritance Book 1) Read Free Page B

recognized the tall archway leading to the foyer—the same foyer where she’d bumped into the Grouch earlier in the day.
    Another Asian man appeared at her other side, a similar cordial smile preceding his answer. “Upstairs to finalize the arrangement, Miss Maitland. The entryway is right up here.”
    The pace quickened once they passed beneath the enormous arch into the foyer, until she had to trot to keep up. Guests trickled in through the glass doors leading outside, barely paying the trio any attention. Madalina figured there was a hidden entrance to the interior of the casino where the employees gathered in break rooms and where elevators whisked those in higher positions to upper floors.
    When they aimed for the front doors, Madalina frowned. She wished, just for a moment, that her thought process wasn’t clouded by alcohol. Something didn’t seem quite right.
    “Wait—we have to go outside? I thought we were going upstairs?” she said, glancing aside to one man, then the other. Security, she guessed, though she didn’t see any logo on their suits or name tags on their lapels. They were security, right? Neither man held walkie-talkies, although one did have a device in his ear, the kind used to talk hands free to someone else.
    Instinct demanded she bring the marching party to a halt. She slowed, applying pressure on the hold to her elbows.
    “Our office entrance is just outside,” one man replied. The doors opened to a hot gust of arid, desert night.
    Madalina twisted in their grasp, exerting more pressure, to which they responded by tightening their hold on her elbows. A sleek, shiny black sedan sat next to the curb beyond the sidewalk, a back door open as if awaiting their arrival. A well-timed hand over Madalina’s mouth cut off a shout of alarm, and her purse banged against her legs as she actively resisted their hold. Fear latched onto her spine, sending fissures of shock through her body. This couldn’t be happening.
    Impossibly, it seemed as if the men meant to stuff her into the backseat and abscond with her to destinations unknown. She struggled in the tight grip of her abductors, who, she realized far too late, were not casino security at all.

C HAPTER T WO
    S trobe-like imagery flashed across Madalina’s vision while she fought for her life: sharply creased pants, the carved button on a jacket, perfectly manicured nails on a masculine hand. A gold necklace, the glint of a dark brown eye, the edge of the curb.
    Moonlight gleamed off the silver trim of the sedan, shoes scuffed concrete, and locks of loose hair swung wildly around her cheeks. It seemed as if a lifetime had passed in the few seconds since leaving the casino. She writhed and jerked and twisted, not about to be taken without a fight. The open door of the car was the portal to hell, a gaping hole of darkness from which she was sure she would never return.
    As if driven forward by some unearthly force, the man on Madalina’s right slammed into the car, cheek bouncing off the metal frame. A fist flew in out of nowhere, landing a blow to the side of the man’s head.
    Madalina figured security—real security—had finally arrived.
    Yanking against the hold on her other arm, and thinking to take advantage of the sudden disruption, she yelped in surprise when the Asian man shoved her into the backseat. Into the black hole she so desperately wished to avoid. Instead of fighting it, she went with the momentum, scrambling forward while ignoring a terse Chinese command. Catching the opposite handle, she opened the door and all but fell out onto the asphalt. Her purse, straps tangled around her forearm, landed next to her head.
    Surging to her feet, the world spinning dizzily, Madalina shot a hand out to brace against the car.
    “Run. Right now. Run!” the Grouch said, scooping a strong arm around her waist and rushing her forward toward rows of cars in the parking lot.
    “But . . . wait . . . ” She couldn’t catch her breath.