Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 273(@200wpm)___ 218(@250wpm)___ 182(@300wpm)
“Why didn’t you let me fall?” I ask. “It would have solved your problem. I wouldn’t be able to talk about what I saw if I were dead.”
My last word makes him grimace, which is surprising considering that Vincent Moretti surely has no problem with things like death. Hell, he’s responsible for causing death to others with his own hands.
I can’t read his expression as he pulls me further away from the open window. But I can read his body language, and it’s not at all how I would have expected him to react. Every action he takes, from wrapping the robe around me to tying my wet hair behind my head, exudes a mix of fervent anger and shaking panic. I don’t understand. My death would solve a lot for him. So why is he so upset? Sure, I can see why he’d be angry—especially since he’d have to repair the window and clean up the mess of my body on the street outside his building. But this isn’t just anger on his part, this is something else. The rain has tousled his dark hair, and droplets of water are sliding down his chiseled cheekbones.
“I should’ve let you fall,” he says after a long silence. “But I’m a selfish man.”
He stands there in front of me, close enough that I can feel his labored breath against my face. His black shirt is wet and clinging to the defined muscles of his chest and the one haphazardly pushed up sleeve on the arm that first reached for me reveals more of the ink that covers that part of his body.
“What?” I whisper, helplessly trying to mask the stirring of lust that seeps into my voice.
Vincent’s words indicate he wants me alive, that he wants me here with him. But that can’t be possible. I struggle to catch my breath as I stand there, holding his gaze. And I wrestle against the feelings swelling within me. This man is my captor, not my rescuer. He’s a villain, not a hero. So why do I feel a blossoming lust bloom inside my chest as I stand here, getting lost in his eyes?
I open my mouth to speak, unsure of what is going to come out. But before I can utter a single word, he turns on his heels and walks toward the door. Behind me, the gaping hole in the wall is letting rain cascade onto the penthouse floor. The wind howling up here makes me dizzy as the adrenaline fades and a sense of longing takes over. “I want the window repaired now,” Vincent says as both Marco and another man step inside the penthouse. “This time with reinforced, shatterproof glass. And she is not to leave her room, do you understand me?”
Both men nod as Vincent leaves without saying another word.
“Come on,” Marco says as he leads me toward my bedroom. “I’ll get you a change of clothes and some warm tea. Stay in your room until I have fixed the window. I’ll be standing guard outside your door.”
I nod and glance back at the other man as Marco leads me to my room. I can hear him on the phone, calling someone to seal the window. As soon as I’m inside my room with the door closed, I try to calm myself and think back over the events that just unfolded. The wind’s howling up here, making me dizzy as the adrenaline fades and a sense of longing takes over.
CHAPTER 7
ISLA
It’s been a few days since I’ve been able to leave my room again. Since Vincent’s gone, Marco’s been my only companion. I’ve heard other men outside the door in the penthouse. One of them, the man who was here with Vincent the night that I broke the window, sounds like a real jerk. Now I can hear him out there talking with Marco on the other side of the door. “Don’t get too soft with her, Junior,” he warns. “Consider that woman nothing but trouble for Vincent; treat her like a hostile prisoner. If it were up to me, I’d have gotten rid of her already.”
“Come on, Alonzo,” Marco says in my defense. “She’s not a threat as long as she’s inside that room. Besides, I’d imagine that being Vincent’s underboss means that you’ve got more important things to take care of than a ballerina.”
I can hear Alonzo let out a disagreeable grunting sound. “Ballerina or not, she’s trouble, mark my words. And I don’t want to see the boss getting distracted by her pretty face. She’s barely old enough to be turning his attention as it is. Trust me, I’ve got a daughter her age, and I know how they can be. She’s a dancer too. And if I didn’t keep a tight leash on her, Sera would be out throwing herself at the feet of any handsome, powerful men like Vincent as well. Women need to be kept on a short leash, especially the young ones, or else they cause problems.”