Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
“What?” I snapped.
“The girl escaped.”
I swear I felt the vein in my temple throb and my teeth ground together. “What?”
“We got her back, but she started a fire and knocked out Nick.” How the hell did that tiny girl knock out a guy Nick’s size? The same way she cut me? The thought was like a grenade with the pin pulled. If she touched another man, there would be no amount of begging that could save her from me. And if Nick touched her… he was a dead man.
I got up and grabbed my jacket. “I’m on my way. Don’t leave her unattended until I get there.” Of all the spoiled brats in the world…
By the time I made it home, it was after one in the morning, and my rage was palpable, tinging my vision red. Philipe was standing outside the door to my apartment, his face serious and shoulders tense.
“She’s inside.”
“Where’s Nick?”
“Sent him home. She broke his nose.”
I let out a hard breath, willing a sense of calm that was very much absent. “Explain.”
“The fire alarm was going off. When Nick saw smoke coming under the door, he rushed in, and she nailed him in the face with a bar stool.”
Of course, she did. My shoulders relaxed slightly at the knowledge that she didn’t get close to him.
“She stole his gun, too, but I guess she doesn’t know how to use one.” She could have shot herself, for fuck’s sake.
“You can go.”
He left, and I opened the door to the apartment. The smell of smoke hit me straight away. The oven door was open, foam and water dripping onto the flooded wooden floor. Everything around the oven was black from the smoke and soot, and I knew it would all have to be replaced. My temper spiked, creeping into territory she really did not want to witness. When I walked into her room, Emilia was sitting on the edge of the bed waiting for me. Her gaze met mine, teeth digging into her bottom lip nervously. At least she had the sense to fear me.
“Tell me, Emilia, do you wish to die?”
Because she might well if she went out there alone. Sergio had made it clear that he had no qualms about putting a bullet in her head.
She pushed to her feet, squaring her shoulders for a fight. “Are you threatening me?”
Damn. That fire made me want to spank her ass until she learned exactly when to bite her damn tongue.
“Because I’m not just going to accept being your captive and obey you like some pet.”
The thin, ragged string of my patience snapped, and the side of myself that I kept leashed slipped a little. Grabbing her by the throat, I slammed her up against the screened wall, making the TV flicker. Those rose-pink lips parted on a ragged gasp, and her pulse raced beneath my fingertips like a hummingbird’s wings.
“Oh, but right now, that’s exactly what you are, sweetheart. A pet that is safe because for now, I want you that way.” My thigh pushed between hers and the full weight of my body crushed her tiny form. “Or would you rather we call off our arrangement and you go back to your family?” I smiled when she tensed. “Ah, there it is. That fear that tells me you aren’t completely reckless.” Not fear of me, though.
She was scared of Sergio Donato more than me, and if she were anyone else, that would be a grave error in judgment.
“Fuck you.” She rammed her palm into my chest and dug her nails into the base of my throat. Yes, fight me, sweet Emilia. “I won’t apologize for wanting to be free of you and them.”
“You set fire to my fucking apartment. Again.”
She stared me down with nothing but hatred and unbending will, and my dick pressed against the front of my pants. I didn’t give a shit if she felt it either. Leaning in, I nipped her ear lobe, riding the fine line of my control as her breath hitched in response.
“Careful, piccola. Anyone would think you like my rage.”
She lifted her chin defiantly.
“Or maybe it’s just those daddy issues.”
Her palm met my cheek in a resounding clap that sent all the blood in my body to my dick. When was the last time a woman was brave enough to strike me? Never. It was always submission and eagerness to please. Yet, that was the third time she’d struck me in less than a week. I was growing addicted to her temper.
My hand shifted, and I lifted her onto tiptoes, cutting off her air as I brought her lips to mine. Just a brush but enough to have me biting back a groan. “I could kill you and save myself a lot of hassle.”
“But you won’t,” she choked out.