Total pages in book: 27
Estimated words: 25253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 25253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 126(@200wpm)___ 101(@250wpm)___ 84(@300wpm)
“You’re not going to let me go, are you?” I should have known when he untied me so easily. I can still feel the ropes against my skin.
The burn of them didn’t hurt. In fact, I might have enjoyed it. I didn't get the feeling I was about to be tortured. I’ve got to stop hanging out in the library so much reading dirty books. But the library has always been my safe place. A place of solace. It’s how I met Laurel.
“You have two options. Either give me the information or you stay.”
“Why can’t you let me go?” I plead.
“Because Santino will have you picked right back up, and who knows where he might send you next.”
I swallow.
It was ballsy to storm into Kane Santino’s home, but I didn’t have much of a choice. Laurel was gone. I failed her. I knew her father wasn’t treating her right. I noticed over time that things with him got worse and worse. She stopped coming to the library or leaving home. Her whole world was that little apartment over the dry cleaners her father owned. She’d been wilting away.
Slowly, I tried to lure her out and convince her to run with me. Then she fell into Santino's hands. One of the most feared men in the city. If I had gotten her away from her father sooner, that would have never happened.
“I’ll never give you what you're asking of me. So I guess I’d better make myself comfortable.” I jut my chin out.
“Then shall I show you to your room?”
“What?” My brows raise, but I try to quickly hide my surprise. That wasn’t what I thought he was going to say. Honestly, I wasn't sure what his next move would be. He’s clearly not the normal man of the cloth.
“You said you wanted to get comfortable.”
“You’re serious?” His expression doesn’t change, answering my question without words. “So I’m a prisoner.”
“You have the key. Use it at any time.”
“You’ll have to pry it from my dead hand.” I give him my best glare.
“Dead men tell no tales.”
“Pretty sure yours does. Got a whole book or somethin’.” I stride past him, keeping my shoulders back. His mouth forms a line. I don’t know if I’ve pissed him off or he’s fighting a smile. I’ll take either as a small victory. “Got a name, or does everyone call you Father?”
“Some.”
“What about Daddy?” I wiggle my brows. I’m pushing it, and I know it, but I can’t help it. I’m frustrated, and I want someone to be angry with me.
“If you wish. What shall I call you?”
“Prisoner 69.”
“You’re blushing.” He opens the door for me. “Come on, Angel, before you bite off more than you can chew.”
“Are you sure it’s me that’s bitten off more than I can chew?” I challenge. He steps right into me, taking up all the space, his body pressing flush against mine. I should step back, but I don’t. The air in my lungs freezes when I feel the outline of his cock against my stomach.
“Don’t tempt me, Angel.” He leans down. His warm breath tickles across my lips. “I will bite.”
Okay, maybe it is me that has bitten off more than I can chew.
CHAPTER 3
BJORNSSON
“You put her in the Mary room and are feeding her gourmet meals?” Lars frowns. “Should I beat her after dinner?”
“I’d prefer you did not. I like you, Lars, and if you were to hurt her, I would have to cut your throat.” I carve a piece of meat off for myself and shove a bloody piece of wagyu into my mouth.
“What do you plan to do with her? She’s not talking, and Santino will call us.”
“Santino has his own pigeon from which to squeeze his information. He doesn’t need this girl, and at some point, when his dick isn’t dominating his thought process, he’ll realize it.” I eat the last piece of meat and then finish my glass of burgundy. A light chime sounds in the room, signaling an arrival. “Is it that time already?” I glance at my watch. It’s seven, which means Abbott Emerson has arrived. I wipe my mouth and push back my chair.
Lars immediately moves toward the door. My bodyguard takes his job seriously. Abbott Emerson is waiting in the reception room. His slight body is shrouded in his black robes. When his eyes fall on my collar, a small smile touches the corners of his eyes. He holds out his hands. “I see you are keeping the faith.”
I take those old, liver-spotted hands in mine and bend deeply until my forehead hovers just above the backs of them. “As always.”
He removes one hand and places it at the back of my head. “You’re doing well, disciple.” He presses in a downward motion. I take the hint and kneel and raise my cupped palms upward. A small object, a wafer, is placed in them. Abbott Emerson says a blessing. When he is finished, I bring the cupped hands to my mouth and inhale the wafer. Closing my eyes, I give thanks for having caught my very own angel. Lars steps to my side and places a check in Abbott Emerson’s palm. “For the Church, from the Chapel.”