Phoebe's POV
And the worst part? I'd gone for his legs again.
This time, we'd definitely finished them off.
Facing the brutal assault from Alistair's crew, the bodyguards threw in the towel.
They were just earning a paycheck. No way were they about to die for their employer.
When you can't win, you quit fighting.
Getting nabbed by Harold wasn't a death sentence. Worst case, they'd take a beating, then walk free.
Whether their current boss lived or croaked wasn't their problem.
If the Ellis came hunting for revenge, they'd target Harold and me. Nothing to do with these guys.
"He's yours now. How do you want to end him?"
I walked toward Burton, my voice soft, but each word turned his blood to ice.
'What's she getting at? Is she actually going to kill me?'
Burton wondered.
"Phoebe, don't go overboard. If I die, the Ellis family will destroy you," Burton barked from his wheelchair, though his legs throbbed with such agony that his threats came out more like pleas.
