Total pages in book: 118
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 548(@200wpm)___ 439(@250wpm)___ 366(@300wpm)
I’d rarely bothered trying to tune down my rage and the need for bloodshed in the more than two years since I’d become Underboss. There was no need to. Now, however, with Amelia back in my life and her newfound talent to enrage me, it was a skill I needed to learn. “We aren’t friends anymore. Right now, we are nothing but captive and captor. Soon we will be lovers, husband and wife. Whatever was between us before, you ruined it by running.”
Her expression fell. Did she finally understand what she’d done? Or did she prefer to stay oblivious? “Don’t force me to marry you, Nestore. You’re better than that.”
I glared at the enraging girl before me. “Oh no, you will become my wife. I’ll parade you around as my trophy until the end of all days. You will be the memorial of your father’s fallen kingdom and the mark of my triumph, Amelia Lamorgese.”
She tried to shove me away, but I held her tighter. She was much smaller than I was, and I had worked on my strength every day since I’d left my cell.
I leaned down until her hot breath ghosted over my cheek. My lips brushed her throat, inhaling her sweet scent, slightly sweaty from a day of work, but still perfect, way too perfect. I bared my teeth and bit down into her soft skin, wanting to leave a mark. She gasped, her body tensing under my hands, her breath stuttering in her chest.
She tasted better than any fantasy of hers. I couldn’t wait to taste the rest of her, to draw out more pants of pain from her pink lips.
I rubbed the spot where Nestore had bitten me, knowing the subtle soreness meant I’d have a bruise, which had definitely been his intention. I winced more from shock than pain—not that there wouldn’t be more pain. There would be. Nestore would make me pay with pain and humiliation. I had run from him, and in Nestore’s eyes, that made me almost as guilty as my father.
Nestore Romano hated my last name for everything my father had done to him and his family. But me… he hated me for the single act of running away. Every act of kindness and affection before my perceived crime was irrelevant.
I could see it in every menacing twist of his lips, in every harsh look, and in the fierceness of his touch.
I would become his wife.
I knew I wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it. I wouldn’t be able to run either. Nestore wouldn’t let me succeed a second time. He had searched for me for more than two years. My stomach filled with strange warmth at the thought. I wanted to believe he’d done it because he loved me, but I feared it was more out of hurt pride and fury. Could this kind of dedication, obsession even, be blamed on love?
Still, remembering his words about how I was in his heart and head, my own heart clenched with emotions. Even if I got the chance, could I really run again, knowing what it would do to Nestore? Last time, I hadn’t allowed myself to consider Nestore’s pain for more than a fleeting moment. I had been too wounded, too desperate to save myself to extend that kind of courtesy toward Nestore.
I slanted a cautious look over to Nestore. He sat several seats down from me on the private jet. I wasn’t sure if he couldn’t stand my presence or if he didn’t trust himself around me. Considering the rage in his eyes, I was surprised he still controlled himself this well. He was looking out of the window at the night sky. The city lights spread out below. Soon we would land in Los Angeles. His expression was devoid of the rage and hatred it usually carried around me. He looked almost peaceful. With that look, he reminded me of the boy of his early capture—the boy who laughed and smiled, the boy with kindness in his heart. My father had carved it out of him. I wanted to believe a tiny part of it was still buried deeply within, and I’d be the one to draw it out of him. I was stronger than the girl from two years ago. But was I strong enough to beat Nestore’s darkness?
I wasn’t sure.
As if he could feel my gaze on him, he looked my way, and any trace of peacefulness vanished to be replaced by harshness. He held my gaze as if in silent challenge. He was a beautiful man, with the features of a Greek god. He was the man my heart longed for, and my body craved, but what he had in store for me wasn’t what I had envisioned in my fantasies about our joined future.