Page 174 of The Elusive Billionaire

No. No, he can’t mean that. And even if he does, he’ll never trust me again. Riley wins either way.

“Fuck,” Roman shouts. “He saw my guy.”

An engine roars, tires squeal, and my night erupts into madness.

“Run, Savvy. Run.” Grey’s terrified expression penetrates my panic, but so does Riley’s shouted threats.

“Time’s up, Bitch. I warned you. I told you what would happen if you weren’t mine.”

What the hell is happening?

Grey rockets toward me like a bullet while Riley roars nonsense into the air.

An engine is getting closer, so I turn and run.

“No, Savvy! No…”

I look up.

There’s nothing human in Riley’s gaze as he drives a giant pickup truck straight for me.

He’s laughing. Manically. His shouted curses, threats, and promises of violence pierce what should be a silent night.

I always wondered how my life would end. For a few years, I fooled myself into thinking I could have a normal life here in Happiness.

But my past was always going to collide with my future. I just didn’t know it would happen quite so literally.

Time slows in these last precious moments of my life. I’m still running, zigging and zagging, fighting for my right at happiness, but then the time comes, and I know he’ll hit me no matter where I go.

I have just enough time to look over at Grey one more time.

It’s his face, his scent, his love that I’ll take with me to heaven—or hell, depending on who gets the final say.

He’s my hero, my knight in shining armor, and I never got to tell him how much his determination, how much his loyalty has meant to me. This will hurt him, break him. I just hope my death doesn’t destroy him.

I’m almost glad my end will be quick because I know I couldn’t carry the weight of his guilt that hits me when his gaze connects with mine.

“I lied,” I cry, hoping he knows I mean about everything.

I lied to protect him. I lied to keep him away from Riley.

Braxton and Sage will be able to explain it to him, right?

They’ll let him know why I said horrible, unforgiveable things in my final moments of life.

Right?

Thump.

Crunch.

Glass rains down—it’s not unlike the night of the hurricane, except this time, I know I won’t make it out in one piece.

A crack of bone.

I’m weightless—airborne.

Then I’m hit again, and I feel myself contort in ways that shouldn’t be possible.