icon 0
icon TOP UP
rightIcon
icon Reading History
rightIcon
icon Sign out
rightIcon
icon Get the APP
rightIcon

The Ice Queen's Secret Trophy Husband

Chapter 2 2

Word Count: 1137    |    Released on: Today at 16:02

ugh the soles of Christopher's dress shoes. He sat in the corner seat,

eading t

ing with a sickly orange glow. He walked three blocks to a brick building that had se

stairs. The hallway smelled o

unlocked a

. A single mattress on the floor, a folding table, and a lap

the deadbolt. Then the chain. Then a hea

the folding table and opened the laptop. The screen

ord. It was thirty-

interfac

lance: $5,

ING - 30 DAY

pletion bonus had appeared, but the Mitchell Family Trust had a standar

hecking account.

a flight to Mexico City by 3:00 AM, but without the liquid cash,

He needed a bridge.

reached under the floorboards in the co

, a toothbrush, and a passport under the name Christopher Haney. Not t

His body was lean, corded with muscle that he usually hid under ill-fitting clothes. T

d a black t-shirt. The cotton felt r

r. It was a grainy picture of a group of kids in a concrete yard. St. Jude's

ree seconds. Then he p

one buzzed

cked

ient B. 08:0

had taken two contracts. Brielle Harris. The contract had three months left. The payout

to the empty room. "I just

contained a six-pack of Pabst Blue Ribbon and a jar of mustar

beer tasted like metal

froze. He reached up and switched off the

s body flat against the wall. He pe

past, lights flashing.

relax. He took an

he he

ffling of his elderly neighbor, Mrs. Kowals

ed outside

he beer down on t

, the distinct sound of a

have

window was stuck; it would take too much noise

cked. The de

pen immediately.

ice boomed from the ha

ead of security for

's center of gravity was. A strike to the throat, a sweep of the leg

identities would be scrutinized. The Harris contract would blow u

o play t

up his hair to look like he had been sleeping

ned th

ng a black tactical vest over a suit. Behind him w

tching up into a tremble. "What... what

orcing Christopher back. He looked

It was in your shoe heel. But you changed shoes." Br

topher stammered. "T

Mrs. Mitchell doesn't a

the t

grabbed Christopher's upper

, acting paralyzed by fear. Internally, he was calculating

pher whined. "I j

sleep in

r stumbled, catching himself on the doorframe.

it," Br

rtment, down the stairs, and into the

Claim Your Bonus at the APP

Open