Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85490 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 427(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
What do I want from this?
That’s the question I keep running through my head. For years and years, I’ve hidden myself away in my house and focused on my art. My family supports me, and I don’t need to put myself in these stupid, risky situations if I don’t want to. I don’t like crowds, and I especially hate most men, and this is exactly the sort of stupid situation I should run away from.
Instead, I keep thinking about Jackal’s hands on my body.
It’s been so long since I’ve been touched, and even longer since I was able to enjoy it. All thanks to what happened all those years ago. I have my scars and they run deep, and I’ve never been able to push away the panic I feel whenever unfamiliar people come near me.
Until the masks.
God, I’m broken. I’m absolutely, unmistakably broken.
But I can’t stop.
I reach the top of the stairs. Nothing looks different about the door—it’s just an emergency exit that leads to the roof. I hesitate, and this is my last chance to turn around, but I push the bar and the door jerks open.
No alarms go off. I step out into the night and I take in the gorgeous view as I suck in lungfuls of fresh air.
There’s nothing. Jackal’s not here. I expect to feel relief—but instead, there’s a crushing misery pounding down against my skull.
I’ll never be normal.
I’ll always be stuck in my house, afraid to face the world.
I can’t even have this strange relationship.
“I knew you’d come, little demon girl.”
I stifle a shriek and turn around.
Jackal’s standing a few feet to the right of the fire escape door in the shadow of some ductwork. His mask sucks in all the light around him and the gold seems to glitter and sparkle.
Relief floods me and my knees go weak. I lean against the entrance to steady myself.
Jackal takes a step forward. He looks exactly like I remember. Lean and muscular in a sleek expensive suit and with that beautifully made jackal mask. The ears point at the sky and his snout seems to mock me as he tilts his head to the side. I can just make out his eyes, the dull, gunmetal gray of them.
“I didn’t think you’d really show up,” I say, feeling extremely naked and exposed. I wish I had my ram’s horns for protection.
But this is what I wanted. No, this is what I need.
I straighten my spine and let him look at me.
“Do you want to play?” he asks, and I swear, he’s smiling.
Chapter 6
Marco
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
I can’t stop looking at her. The short crop top is pink, a few shades darker than her skin, and scoops down low. She’s not wearing a bra, and her nipples are hard and pointed, beautiful little peaks. Her breasts look firm and small, exactly the way I like them. I stare at the line of her throat, at her pouty lips, at her beautiful eyes, at her wavy brown hair hanging around her shoulders. Gold hoops dangle from her ears. A black skirt hugs her hips and muscular, shapely legs.
Fucking hell.
I should hate this girl. She’s a goddamn Bianco.
Instead, I’m hard just looking at her, and it’s killing me.
“Do you want to play?” I ask, wishing she’ll say no, and not sure if I could handle it if she did.
“What’s the game?” she asks and comes away from the emergency door. “And how did you get up here? Are you a member?”
I shake my head. “Not a member.”
“Security’s tight.”
“Not that tight.” I tilt my head, trying not to smile. She’s interrogating me—which means she wants to figure out my secret.
No fucking way I’m going to let her know who I am.
I’m not sure she’d recognize me, but her family sure as hell would.
I was too high up in Santoro’s organization. Her brothers did their best to hunt me down and end me when Luciano was killed, but I survived their fucking purge, and now here I am.
Thinking about how I’ll defile their sister.
No, thinking about how I’ll play with her, tease her, fuck her, make her moan and whisper my name. Jackal.
This is fucked. Beyond fucked. I’m so far out over the ledge right now and there’s nobody holding me down and keeping me from falling.
“You do realize that I’m going to check the camera footage, right?” She’s not smiling. Her head is tilted to the side, studying me. She comes closer, and her gaze moves down my body. Good, I like that. Her eyes widen a bit when she spots the blanket I’m standing on.
And the black silk blindfold.
“Won’t matter. The cameras aren’t working.” I stay very still. I get the sense she’s debating whether she wants to run away or not, and I don’t want to spook her. My little demon. My enemy.