Bridges Burned (Mission Mercenaries #3) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mission Mercenaries Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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My room is exactly the same, its pristineness maintained by house staff while I was away. There isn’t a thing out of place nor a speck of dust to be found.

I lock the door behind me, knowing it’s only a suggestion for honest people and there aren’t many of those around here, before heading into the bathroom.

I know better than to be late, so I don’t waste a second, stripping naked and getting into the shower. I wonder if I’ll be brave enough to not mention Elio being alive while Alessio is hurting me. If my tormentor knew my brother was still walking the earth, he would’ve used it by now to hurt me.

I can’t enjoy my shower because I know how long it takes me to dry my massive mane of hair. I have to pull it up in a bun due to time constraints, but it doesn’t really matter how I fix it or what I wear. The night will still end the same way.

I want to cry all over again when I realize my clothes are tighter than they ever have been. The hamburgers with extra bacon and french fries I paid Hollis for with my nudity have settled on my hips, and I know it will be just one more thing Alessio will punish me for.

I take several deep breaths before leaning in close to the mirror to put on my mascara. I choose the kind that isn’t waterproof because I know the man likes to see my face streaked with my pain. Maybe this will help him to end things faster. It’s no longer time for bravery. All I can hope for is quick at this point.

Silence surrounds me as I leave my room. I don’t hear or see any of the guards. The door to Lucian’s office is closed tight like normal. I don’t run into any house staff on my way to the dining room, which I find empty other than a note on the table.

He’s already starting his games, I realize, as I pick up the card that directs me to the theater room.

I wobble on my heels as I climb the set of stairs opposite of the living quarters. I don’t consider rushing out the front door because I know it will be guarded. Even if it wasn’t, the perimeter is walked constantly and I could never make it over the twelve-foot walls surrounding the compound.

The hum of electronic equipment greets me before turning the doorknob.

The theater seats twelve in electric recliners and up to eight more if people are willing to sit on the giant bean bags placed around the room.

Dead center of the room is Alessio. If I didn’t know better, if I hadn’t seen the type of monster I know he is, I could mistake him for a gentleman. His suit is tailored to fit his body. One I know from being forced to watch him fuck other women is toned, tanned, and covered with ink declaring his allegiance to his family. I know without seeing it that he has his favorite knife tucked in at his back. His brother was fond of his two pistols, but Alessio likes to take a more personal approach when teaching a lesson.

“There you are, my love.”

He lowers the bottle of wine and holds out a glass of wine in my direction. I know better than to refuse, despite him being well aware that I hate the taste of wine. It’s an exercise in control.

“Thank you,” I tell him, lifting the glass to my lips.

With any luck, he’s put poison in the damn thing.

I drain it, refusing to gag at the flavor just to spite him.

“Now, now, darling. No one likes a drunk.” His lip twitches. The man is already losing his patience with me.

He takes the glass from my hand, sweeping his arm to one of the recliners.

I take my seat, knowing he’s purposely trying to fuck with my head. He chuckles, the tiniest of laughs slipping out when the toe of my high heel drags the carpet, making me stumble a little.

Whatever bravery I managed slips away, my chin threatening to quiver when he takes the seat next to mine as he lifts the remote.

“I thought dinner and a movie would be the best way to welcome you home.”

The screen lights up, but instead of a big production showcasing the studio responsible for the movie, it automatically flickers to life, on a man tied to a chair.

I turn my head, already guessing what he’s going to force me to watch.

Rough fingers grab my chin, his whiskey-tainted breaths on the side of my face.

“If you close your eyes longer than it takes you to blink, I’ll slice your eyelids from your fucking face.”

I know better than to challenge his threats, so I sit, with tears streaming down my face, as I watch Alessio and his men torture and kill my father.


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