Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84181 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
This is for Gianna.
This is my chance to finally be fucking free.
When her eyelids flutter and her gags and sputters around the blood soften, I let her go and step away. She lands on her knees and falls forward, her face slamming into the hard marble floor. I stare down at her, watching the blood pour from her nose and mouth.
It pools on my floor, blending in with her flaming red hair.
I don’t stop staring—don’t make a fucking move—until I see the last breath bubble its way out of her motherfucking body.
When I know she’s dead, I go to the counter and grab the wooden box on top of it. My winner’s box, as my father would call it, delivered right to this room, like I ordered.
Every time I know I’ve won, I open it and take a prize.
I pull out a joint and my favorite gold zippo lighter, staining both with her blood. Pressing my back into the edge of the counter, her blood a puddle at my feet, I strike a spark from the lighter and take a pull from the joint, inhaling deep, letting the buzz cleanse my soul—letting it renew and restore me. I smoke the whole thing, not giving a damn about the mess on my floor.
As I take the final pull, I push off the counter, looking at the dead puta one last time and then smirking as I walk away.
I told that bitch I would kill her.
She should have fucking listened.
48
GIANNA
The door to his bedroom swings open, and he walks in, soiled in blood.
I don’t ask questions, even though that was much quicker than I thought it would be. Instead, I climb off the bed and walk to the shower to start it.
He comes into the bathroom and starts to unbutton his pants. When the water is warm enough, I walk over to help him, lightly pushing his hands away and pulling his shirt over his head. I reach down, unbuckling his belt next and then unbuttoning his pants.
Tossing it all on the floor, he stands before me completely naked, his cock thick, hanging between his legs, and I slip out of my dress, taking his hand and leading the way to the shower.
No words are spoken as we step beneath the stream.
I look up at him as water pours over his head. His eyes squeeze tight as the blood rushes down the drain.
When it’s all gone, he presses himself against me, cupping my ass in hand and bringing his head down. His lips press on my cheek and then my jawline.
I cup his face, my other hand wrapping around the back of his neck as I turn my head, getting our lips to connect.
With this act alone, he picks me up in his arms, and I link my legs around his waist. With his teeth clamping my bottom lip, he presses my back on the shower wall and delivers a hard, powerful thrust deep inside me.
It’s tender and full, and my moan is louder than it probably should be, but I don’t care. He sucks on my bottom lip and then drops his head to lick the water away from my skin before kissing me all over my neck.
God, it feels good.
He feels so good inside me.
“Fuck, I love you, Gianna,” he rasps, warm water running over his full lips as he brings his head up and locks eyes with me. “So fucking much.” His hips are still drilling upward, filling me up. He groans, hard and heavy as he drops his forehead on my shoulder. A wild growl fills the space of the shower, and he stills inside me, panting heavier, still cupping me in his large hands.
My fingers thread through the hair at the nape of his neck. We stay like this for a moment, breathing. Sighing. Relieved. I rest my cheek on his shoulder with a sigh.
We finish washing up, and when we’re out, we put on robes and walk back to the bedroom. I linger by the bathroom door, twisting my fingers.
Before he can sit down on the bed I call his name.
He looks over his shoulder at me. “Si, Gianna?”
“I have something to tell you,” I whisper, and suddenly my heart is pounding, but only because I don’t know how he’ll react.
He turns fully, eyes serious and focused. Either I’ve paled and now look like a ghost, or he’s actually seeing one because he asks in an urgent tone, “What is it?”
“I… ” My mouth clamps shut, my eyes burning now. “I found out a few days ago that I’m…pregnant.”
His eyebrows stitch together, and he stops moving all together. With a deep frown, he asks, “How do you know this?”
“I haven’t been feeling well or like myself the past few days. When I came back to Mexico, I asked Emilio to buy me a test, and I took it the night you finally arrived in Puerto Vallarta—after we talked. It was positive. I still have the test—it’s in my bag if you want to see it.”