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)
My breath caught as I felt a warm barrel on my temple. The gun that had just ended two lives.
“I won’t hesitate to put a bullet in my pretty wife’s skull,” Stone explained pleasantly.
He kept the barrel there as my eyes locked with Knox’s, drowning in the waters I’d so willingly jumped into, thinking I could swim.
The gun stayed at my head, my heart hammering in terror. Not for me dying, but for Stone pulling the trigger and having Knox watch me die. He’d never come back from that. Never stop punishing himself.
“Have I made myself clear, Knox?”
Knox looked as if he might grind his teeth to dust, not taking his eyes off me. He was furious. He was also making promises. About coming for me. Saving me. Not out loud. He said it all with his eyes. Even if we both understood that couldn’t happen. Not anymore.
He nodded once, brutally.
“I’ll give you ten seconds to get out of this room,” Stone’s voice was feather soft, gun still at my temple.
Knox used only five of them before he took measured, unhurried steps to the door. When it closed behind him, I got the distinct feeling that I was never going to see him again.
My plan hadn’t been overly complex. Get close enough to Stone to kill him. Simple was good, it couldn’t go wrong. How hard was it to get close to the man who wanted to rape and kill me at best and marry me at worst? Like Lukyan said, Stone was conditioned to underestimate me, and that would be when I’d strike.
I hadn’t accounted for Knox. On Stone killing two of his men in cold blood and then hurriedly having me taken from the room and put into a car, en route to his home.
Which was where I’d ended up. An hour outside New York, on a sprawling estate, grand with vast gardens. It was picturesque, like it had been plucked out of an English countryside. Made of stone with large, stained glass windows and exquisite marble statues in the entryway.
How such an evil man could live somewhere so seemingly pristine and magical was beyond me. The pretty walls contained revolting memories, blood that had been wiped clean. Of that I was sure.
Stone had handed me off to men in suits who obviously didn’t know of my past with Knox and weren’t aware that their mighty leader would kill them in a heartbeat if they so much as overheard the wrong information. I wanted to tell them that, but I doubted they’d listen to the word of a captive.
I wasn’t under any false illusions that Stone was actually going to marry me. How could he? He was a man of a certain code, and him knowing I’d been with Knox was him thinking that his property—me—was tarnished in some way. An absolutely absurd way of thinking but there I was, feeling like I was back in the 1800s where women were property to powerful men.
I was sure he was going to play with me, torture me maybe, rape me, but not marry me. I didn’t plan on any of those things happening, not that anyone who was raped or tortured was planning on it.
No one told me anything as I was walked through the hallways of the home, without a speck of dust to be seen, decorated in rich reds and reminding me of an old Italian villa with the furnishings to match. Everything was tasteful, elegant.
The ogre had good taste. Or enough money to pay someone who did.
The men in suits didn’t speak to me, and I didn’t attempt to make conversation. There was no point; I wouldn’t make friends there. I was alone.
The thought was distinctly terrifying but also … empowering. I wasn’t weak or simpering, and I was unwilling to give up and wait to be saved. Knox had showed me the power I had inside me, the strength, coiled and waiting for me to let it out. My mother was a victim to a man who took everything from her, and I’d learn from her fate.
I’d make my grandmother proud.
I’d make Knox proud.
Most importantly, I’d make myself proud.
The room I’d been shown to was lovely. An enormous bedroom with a wooden, four-poster bed, a fireplace, a balcony that jutted out with a view of the pool and courtyard below. The smell of roses swept into the room through the open doors. A seemingly tempting escape—it wasn’t that high, and there didn’t appear to be any armed guards patrolling the perimeter, but I wasn’t technically a captive, was I? I’d gone there of my own volition and had said I’d wanted this.
Stone was smart enough to see through my lie, or at least suspect it. The balcony was some kind of test, I was sure. Or maybe a taunt.