Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
I sat on that bed last night, thinking of the way Alessio looked at me after Marcello’s death. Despite doing a lot of talking around me the last couple of years, he demanded I leave the room before speaking another word. I no longer think that he hired this man to kill his brother because it’s obvious this is personal for him, and Alessio was still very suspicious of me after it happened. Returning after Julio was killed with nothing more than a few scratches on my calves would make every alarm bell go off for him. Surviving his suspicions wouldn’t happen. I shudder, thinking about the ways he’d entice me to tell him everything I know. The man sitting across from me may have threatened harm, but Alessio will meet it out without hesitation.
He doesn’t say a word, and he doesn’t break eye contact with me either. I don’t mistake his silence for consideration. He’s just not the type, no matter how quickly he pulled the trigger on Marcello and Julio.
“I don’t want to go back. That would never be my intention, but he will find me. I can run to the end of the earth and he would be waiting for me when I arrive.” I swallow down the threat of tears, knowing they make no more of a difference to this man than they did to my father the day I begged him not to sign the contract with Lucian, promising me to a monster.
“You’d rather be beaten than taking the chance of staying hidden?”
“I don’t want to be hurt,” I explain. “It may not even help, but my destiny is with him.”
“Why?”
It’s a simple question with a million complicated answers.
“He sees me as a possession. He’ll never rest until he finds me.”
“Because he loves you?” Even as he asks, it doesn’t sound like he believes it.
“Because he’ll never let the disrespect of me being taken stand. His search for me isn’t about me, but the brazenness someone had to go against him. There is no level of love, on either side of this, between us. He hates me to my core, and I despise him just as much.”
“But you’re scared of him.”
“Terrified,” I answer without hesitation. “I know what he’s capable of.”
“Yet you have no problem making demands of me. Maybe, you’re mistaken, thinking you’re safe here.”
I lean back when he stands, the small table making it very easy for him to instantly be standing directly over me. His eyes sweep down my body, and it’s as if he can see me naked despite my clothes and the table covering my lap. His eyes lock on my chest, the heave of it erratic with my fearful breaths. I have no doubt this man can be brutal, but I’m a good judge of people. I think he does it when he has to or like he’s acted more recently, when he’s seeking revenge for someone he cares about.
“Beating the shit out of you isn’t how I’d hurt you.”
The implication is clear, and despite my refusal to leave, he still feels like my captor.
“I won’t have sex with you,” I say, the words tumbling out as if he’s made an offer not a threat. “You can beat me, but I’m as sure as dead if you take that part from me.”
“That part?” He scoffs, standing up but only giving me a few inches of distance between our faces. “You were ready to suck Marcello off in the car. You may be a great actress but there’s nothing that will convince me that you’re still a fucking virgin.”
“The first time I refused what Marcello was demanding of me, I ended up with a broken arm,” I say. “I learned fast to weigh my options. Giving him a blow job when he demanded it was easier than the pain he inflicted if I didn’t.”
“And Alessio isn’t bothered that his brother has been making you do that?”
I swallow, my eyes leaving his. I shouldn’t feel shame, but there’s just something about being a victim in that way that eats away at the center of me.
“Alessio didn’t know. He would’ve been pissed. But at the end of the day, I’d be blamed. He would expect me to choose the broken arm every time.”
“Sick fucks,” the man says as he takes another step back and stands to his full height.
The sweep of his eyes down my body a final time before he turns around doesn’t go unnoticed.
I’m in some level of limbo as he walks across to the small living room. He stands in front of the single window facing the street, his arms crossed over his chest.
I don’t even know his name, but for some reason, I feel safer here with him than I ever did with anyone else. Maybe it’s the mystery of him that makes him seem innocuous. Maybe he’s to be feared as much as the men he stole me from, and I’m just wanting to find security where there’s none to be found.