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)
Despite my certainty—in the daylight, at least—that he was coming back, night brought with it doubts. Doubts about his nobility, thinking that if he left me, I’d be better off. But those thoughts quickly evaporated. Knox wasn’t noble. That’s what I loved about him, his villainous soul. And even if he had decided to be noble, he wouldn’t have left me alone in a remote cabin with limited supplies and no vehicle.
So that was out.
The more likely reason was that he was off on some sinister, dangerous task. My fear came out of the worry that whatever task he was completing had gone wrong somehow, that he’d been hurt.
The thought of it had my heart hammering, my breath shallowing. Knox was like a marble man, unbreakable in my eyes, his skin too thick, impenetrable, to wound.
But he bled. I’d seen it.
I had not forgotten that we were in the midst of a bit of a pickle with the Italian mafia. If we were going to be together, it was infinitely dangerous for us. I didn’t think Stone would casually step aside and just let Knox have me.
‘No hard feelings. I tasked you with breaking the woman I wanted to forcibly marry, and she fell for you instead. It’s not a blow to my masculinity at all.’
Yeah, right.
People would need to die for us to be together.
Stone likely needed to die for us to be together.
That didn’t bother me. I thought it might have, but the people who had to die were the same people who were part of the plot to force me to marry a man decades older than me who just so happened to be the head of a major crime organization and likely was responsible for the deaths of hundreds of people.
I’d lose no sleep over that.
It was Knox.
He was powerful. But he was one man against … however many were in the mob. Fifty? A hundred? More?
He already told me he didn’t have friends, allies. He’d have to take them on alone.
So that’s what kept me up at night, him going to battle for me, for us, alone.
And when I heard the crunch of tires against gravel, I lost all sense. I leapt out of bed, not even bothering to put on shoes or pants then sprinted out the door in nothing but his tee and my panties.
I immediately knew it wasn’t Knox.
But it was too late.
They’d left me in a cheap motel room bathroom, handcuffed to the sink. My wrists were bleeding. So was my lip. My eye was swollen, and it throbbed like a motherfucker.
I’d fought them. Which maybe wasn’t smart, but I’d reasoned that I was fighting for my life. Knox was either dead—unthinkable—or hurt enough to leave them to hurt me. And he’d have to be heartbeats away from death to stop protecting me.
Either way, I wasn’t going to go quietly.
The men I’d fought against were much stronger than me and had no qualms about beating an unarmed woman.
I was still wearing a tee and panties. Luckily, the panties had remained intact, even though one of the men—Groves, was his name—had tried to wrench them off as I’d writhed on the cheap sheets of the bed, terrified that I was about to be raped.
But the second one, the one who was quieter, older and likely in charge, had stopped him.
“Stone wants her untouched,” he growled, ripping the man off me.
The younger, vile one was breathing heavily, eyes on me, on my exposed panties. “What does it matter?”
The man had let him go. “It’s your hands. Then your life.” He shrugged.
For a terrible moment, when I thought that man was willing to risk an empty threat and go for me again, my blood sang with real fear.
I exhaled with relief when his eyes darted away, and he muttered a string of curses. “What’s the point of this shit gig if I don’t get pussy?”
The older man glanced at me, sighing, as if to say, ‘Can you believe this guy’?
I scowled at him, refusing to engage in any kind of false comradery with my captors. I was under no illusions that this experience would be anything like what I had with Knox. This was different. This was real. The throbbing in my eye, the stinging in my wrists and the bone deep fear coursing through me told me that.
Before Knox took me, if I was tied to a bed in a tee and underwear with at least one man who had made it clear he wasn’t opposed to rape, neither of them shying away from violence against women, I’d likely be a simpering mess. I would’ve been begging for my life.
But I’d changed in the cabin with Knox. I knew I’d softened him in a way that couldn’t be described, and he’d hardened me.
The strength he helped me discover inside myself meant I was able to scowl at both men, refusing to give up my power.