Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118965 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 595(@200wpm)___ 476(@250wpm)___ 397(@300wpm)
“Thanks,” I say, grabbing Étienne’s arm as he storms toward the house. “No running. And no going upstairs. We’re going to give Sabella a chance to visit with her family in peace.”
Sophie’s face drops. “But I wanted to tell her about my clay model.”
“You can tell her later,” I say, ushering them inside. “What she’ll appreciate is a little time alone with her family. Understand?”
“Come.” Heidi closes the door. “I baked scones.”
The two youngest boys push each other in their haste to get to the kitchen while Sophie drags her feet down the hallway. Johan glances at the stairs as he follows, his gaze both apprehensive and wary.
I go to my study and pour a stiff drink. I’m going to need it. I’d just downed the Scotch and am pouring another when the door slams against the wall and Ryan Edwards barges inside and charges like a fuming bull to where I stand in front of my desk.
Caught off guard, I open my mouth to ask what the problem is, but before I can utter a word, he pulls back his arm and plants his fist on my jaw. The impact sends my face flying to the side. Scotch sloshes over the rim of the glass, soaking my shirt sleeve. By some fluke of luck, I don’t drop the glass.
“You son of a bitch,” he says through gritted teeth, swinging his fist again.
I grab his wrist. “I let the first one slide because I deserved it, but if you punch me again, I’ll fucking break your bones.”
“Come, motherfucker,” he says, yanking his arm from my grip before removing his jacket with jerky movements. “I’m going to level you to the ground.” He’s surprisingly fast, landing a punch on my stomach. “Have you seen the fucking state of my sister?” He delivers another blow on my ribs, sneaking it in when I put the glass on the desk. “You fucking bastard. Is this how you protect her?”
When he takes another swing at me, I punch back. He crashes into the coffee table, but I’m on him before he has time to regain his balance, knocking him down with a left hook on his chin.
He’s as agile as he’s fast, jumping to his feet in a second. He charges at me, head-butting me in the chest. I hear the rib crack, but I don’t feel it. I go for him with everything I’ve got, smashing my fist into his face. That crunch was his nose. Blood streams from his nostrils. He barely pays it attention, wiping away the blood with the back of his hand before aiming a right hook at my temple.
I duck. He misses, his arm cutting through the air. I land two hits on his stomach, making him fold double. He fists his hand in the front of my shirt and swings another punch on my jaw, knocking me sideways. I stumble into the desk, hitting the lamp and sending it crashing to the floor. I shake out my hand and crack my knuckles.
“You fucking failed to protect my sister,” he yells, storming at me. “You almost got her killed.”
He doesn’t see the fist that I smash into his face coming. I’m on him in a blink, grabbing the collar of his shirt and raising my arm to knock him out cold when a voice says from the door, “Stop it.”
Sabella.
Ryan and I freeze. We turn our faces toward the voice.
She stands in the door, supporting herself with a hand on the frame. Her face is so pale it looks as if she’s about to faint.
“Cut it out,” she says in a weak but angry voice. “Haven’t we had enough bloodshed this week?” She pins Ryan with a stare. “The men who attacked me kidnapped the kids to lure Angelo away from the house. There’s no way he could’ve known what they were planning. He did what he did because there was no other choice. He had to go after the kids. If it was Brad, wouldn’t you do the same?”
I let Ryan go. “Sabella.”
“No.” She locks her jaw in that obstinate way that says she’s not going to let this slide. “Answer me, Ryan.”
He untangles his fingers from my shirt and says grudgingly, “Yes.”
Her fiery gaze lands on me. “The two of you are going to get your testosterone under control and behave like civilized people under this roof.”
When she sways, I make my way over, but she stops me with a hand poised in the air.
“No more blaming and no more fighting.” She looks between us. “Do you think you can handle that?”
“Yes,” Ryan and I both say sulkily, but he looks as little sorry as I feel.
“Good.” She places a hand over her stomach. “If you behave like children, I’ll ground you and send you to your rooms.”