 by Jane Henry.jpg)
Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
And the father of my unborn baby.
I should have known he was a monster when I betrayed him.
I should have realized that in the ruthless world of the mafia, my actions would be met with punishment.
But I fell for the wounded bad boy who knew just what I craved.
Now, I am his possession, and he’s determined to make me pay for my sins…
On my knees.
Bent over his desk.
Tied to his bed.
I shouldn’t want this—shouldn’t want him —yet part of me yearns to submit to his dark, depraved demands.
But in Lyam’s world, loyalty is everything. And when he uncovers the truth I’ve been hiding all along, I know that will be the end of us…
Because it will be the end of me...
Please This is a dark, anti-hero romance with elements of violence and consensual non-consent. Please read at your discretion.
This is a fully stand-alone novel in the Masters of Corsica series
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
ONE
Lyam
Boom.
A thrill goes through me when I pull the trigger. Always.
If I believed in superpowers, I’d know what mine is: I hit with the first shot.
Fuck flying or seeing through walls. Give me a cold, hard weapon, ammunition, and a target.
Sometimes I feel like my body’s connected to my gun, as if it’s a part of my actual being. An extension of my person. When I feel the weight of a gun in my hand, my body and mind fuse. Laser-focused.
You don’t know how heavy a body is until you watch it collapse. You don’t know how red blood is until you see it spill. You don’t know the power you wield until you look into the eyes of another person whose life you’re about to end.
Boom.
There’s something almost divine about watching your bullet hit the target. There’s nothing methodical or rote about it. Pulling the trigger and hitting a target makes me feel godlike. I have the power, right in the palm of my hand, to end life.
I’ve got a variety of places I like to go for target practice but today, I wanted to shatter glass. So I came to one of my favorite spots in Paris: a private, remote field on the edge of the city my family’s bought for this purpose. When it’s cold or snowing, I practice inside, but this, this is my favorite—a brick wall where I line up glass bottles. My friends who know my favorite hobby save empty bottles and give them to me by the bucket.
I love watching the glass explode. I love the boom of gunshots. The sharp crack of shattering glass, followed by a rainstorm of tiny, brilliant, sparkling shards.
I pull the trigger again and the cobalt blue bottle on the far right disintegrates.
“Jesus.”
My bodyguard, Philippe, shakes his head. “How far away is that target?”
I squint at it and shrug. “A hundred meters.”
“Mon Dieu.”
Some shooters routinely shoot fifty yards, but hunters and sharpshooters can easily hit targets at further distances, depending on the weapon. I like to practice long range. I don’t always have my target bound, on their knees in front of me, served up on a silver platter.
I aim for the next blue bottle and smile at the memory of Thayer handing me a case of empties after his honeymoon, when my phone rings.
God, I fucking hate technology. Obtrusive and obnoxious, a man can’t even take a piss in private without some kind of goddamn interference.
Speak of the devil. It’s Thayer.
“Yeah?”
“She’s ready for you.”
A different kind of thrill runs through me.
There was a time when I would have moved heaven and earth to be alone with Cosette, but she ruined that. What we had is gone, and in its place, I have another laser-focused target.
She’s earned the ultimate penalty for betraying my family: execution.
But Cosette is too beautiful for death. Her betrayal too deep to end things so quickly.
My brothers agreed to allow her to live, but she’ll suffer the consequences. Namely, she’ll answer to me.
My job is to keep her in my custody. Punish her for betraying my family.
I stand and slide my gun, the metal still hot to the touch, into a holster at my waist. I don't go anywhere without a weapon, which has made for some strategic planning.
I roll my neck and stretch my shoulders.
My plane is ready for me. Cosette’s been kept prisoner at Le Luxe, the private sex club owned by my brother Thayer. But I’ve already made my decision.
I won’t keep her there. What kind of a punishment would it be for her to be in a place familiar to her, where she has friends and acquaintances and the potential to escape?
I’ll bring her back to Paris.
Here, I can make sure that she'll never betray us again. Here, I can keep a closer eye on her.
And here, I'm closest to the people I need to ultimately destroy.
“Hey, man.” Philippe grins at me and shows me a bag of tiny glass bottles. He mouths, “You want a drink on the plane?”
I grin back and move my mouth away from the mouthpiece. “You fucking know it.”
Thayer doesn’t need to know. My older brother’s the most serious asshole I know, and he’d kick Philippe’s ass for drinking on the job. He’d roll his eyes at me and talk about the loss of control, the need for precision and focus, but I don’t fucking care. Sometimes, it takes the edge off.
I grab one and slide it into my pocket. I’ll drink it on the plane.
“For one goddamn time I wish you’d take a ride,” Thayer says. “Do you have any idea how much easier that would be for us?”
I clench my jaw. “No.”
I drive my own cars and I like it that way.
“For Christ’s sake, Lyam. You should really consider trusting the people we hire. You know we vet the fuck out of them.”