Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127484 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 637(@200wpm)___ 510(@250wpm)___ 425(@300wpm)
“Lukyan and I were up against some pretty terrible odds,” Elizabeth said, her voice soft and sweet as she applied bronzer to my cheeks. “We began our relationship in a manner that was not dissimilar to yours.”
I snorted, looking at her in the mirror. “Doubtful. Was he hired to kidnap you as well?” She didn’t deserve the snark in my tone, and I wasn’t usually a person to direct it at someone who had been nothing but kind to me but, I was feeling prickly.
And I needed to be prickly in order to pull off my plan.
“He wasn’t hired to kidnap me, no,” she smiled at me, brushing blush onto my cheeks. “He was hired to kill me.”
I gaped at her slack jawed, shocked by the offhand way in which she said it. No, it wasn’t offhand. It was tender. As if the memory was somewhat warm. Like recounting how you met your husband at a wedding or by accidentally getting in the wrong taxi.
Not a meet-cute that would do well in mixed company.
I let out a half-hysterical laugh.
“It’s ironic,” she nodded. “That we’d meet these men in such ways. But that’s the only way you come across them, if they think you’re their prey.”
I agreed, my stomach swirling with unease.
“And the odds you were up against?” I questioned.
She was quiet for a moment, her nostrils flaring, brackets forming around her mouth. “We had a criminal organization of our own to take down. And we did.”
I rolled my lips together. “I doubt it was that simple.”
She smiled again. “It definitely wasn’t. But we don’t have time for the details right now, and you don’t need them. You just need to know it’s possible. And I think you can do this.” She squeezed my hand reassuringly.
“Why do you think that?” I asked, staring at the foreign person she was turning me into in the mirror. But underneath it all, I was still me. A kindergarten teacher who liked Tarot and fantasy books. “You don’t even know me.”
Her brows pinched as she focused on her eyelash curler for a beat, presumably thinking. “I know what kind of person it takes to love a man who thinks he’s monstrous,” she countered. “And I know how feral, dark and deadly that love is. You’ll go outside of your characters, your morals, your ethics … just to keep hold of it.”
She finished my makeup then stepped back, raking her fingers through the hair she’d already curled and sprayed.
“You’ll do anything to keep hold of him,” she continued. “Even if it costs you your humanity.”
Her words were not reassuring. Not in the traditional sense, at least. But I held on to them for dear life.
Because I would do anything to keep hold of Knox, of us.
If my humanity was the cost, I’d pay it. Consequences be damned.
Elizabeth had left me in the bathroom of the guest bedroom to take care of my basic needs in preparation for our trip. The plan was for us to get on a plane first—a private jet—then they’d be driving me to where I needed to go.
After that, I was on my own.
I stared at myself in the mirror. My hair was shiny and tamed into loose curls trailing down my back. The bruise on my eye was almost invisible. Elizabeth had glued fake lashes onto my eyes, making them feel heavy and uncomfortable, but they made my eyes pop and made me look more feminine. Feline, almost. The blush high on my cheekbones was a baby pink, making me look like I was flushed from sunshine.
The gloss on my lips was that same baby pink, and I wore all white. White sheath dress, clinging to my body and curves, finishing just below my knees. A light cashmere cardigan was on top of it, and sky-high, pink heels were already making my feet hurt. How I was going to run in those was anyone’s guess. But that was the point, wasn’t it? I was going into the wolf’s den dressed as a lamb.
I was as prepared as I was ever going to be. Dressed to the nines in foreign, expensive clothing that melded to my body and made me look like a completely different person. Made me look how I supposed a mafia wife might look.
Which was the point. I was playing a part. I couldn’t look like me. Couldn’t feel like me.
On unsteady feet, I left the bathroom, barely seeing anything while making my way through the decadently decorated home, my heart in my throat.
“You ready?” Lukyan’s rough voice filtered through the foyer of the house.
I thought he was talking to me, which was weird since his voice, though rough, was full of an intimate tenderness that was not for me.
And it wasn’t.
When I looked in his direction, all of his attention was focused on his wife. She was standing in front of the door, a tight look on her face. Her eyes were faraway, and her hands were fisted at her sides.