Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
She wakes after a while. I don’t rush her. I steal glances at her sleeping form, at her innocent face, her beautiful lips. I know it won’t stay like this. When she wakes, we’ll fight. But for now, I can enjoy her simple, gorgeous peace.
By the time my drink is finished, she’s stirring, blinking at the light, frowning at me as I turn to face her. She’s not surprised to see me, but there is a flicker of fear. Good, she’s learning. She must know how bad this situation is.
“Morning, wife.” I lean on that last word, wife.
“Good morning, husband.” She glances at the bedside table, sits up, and takes the mug. The sheet falls away, revealing a low-cut tank top that shows off her graceful breasts, her thin collarbones, her small shoulders, and that lovely dark skin. My blood boils and burns and my anger only peaks as my pure physical lust for her intensifies.
I watch her drink. I stare at her and wonder if this is a mistake. I could leave now and let her stay with her father forever. I have the alliance and there is no reason to break it on account of one willful daughter. I can be reasonable. Gerardo and I will grow stronger together, whether Olivia is involved or not. Let some other cartel fool have to deal with her.
But I won’t leave her alone. It would look too weak to give her back and there would be whispers. No, I’m in this, and I won’t give it up. I know it and I think she does too. Olivia is mine, in body and spirit and mind, she’s been mine for so very long. Ever since I first saw her at school, from a distance, and didn’t know who she was yet, I only knew that she was the new girl, and she was absolutely fucking beautiful. I wanted her badly in those first moments, wanted to kiss her full lips and palm her thick hair, right up until I heard her name and all that desire turned to ash on my tongue. But it never went away, even during all the days I spent making her life hell, torturing her, teasing her, harassing her, making her understand that she’s nothing but a speck beneath my boot.
Which was always a lie. A comforting lie I told myself. Olivia’s never been a speck, or a bug, or an ant. Olivia’s a lioness and always was. Even when things were at their peak and I was a vicious viper striking out at her any chance I got, Olivia never backed down, never ran away, never held her tongue.
She was strong then and she’s strong now. I can’t be surprised when she does exactly what I think she’ll do, even if it pisses me off to no end. It’s that inner strength, that incredible glow, that draws me to her again and again. Despite myself, despite everything.
No, Olivia fights for what she believes, and that’s what I love the most.
“Did you get what you came for?” I ask her softly as I step toward the bed.
She frowns slightly, staring at the coffee. “I think so.”
“And what did you learn?”
I watch her take another long sip before putting the mug back down. Her back straightens and she draws herself up like a queen sitting on cushions in front of her court. Her posture is impeccable and I feel a sharp thrill in my guts I do my best to ignore. I put my own mug down and move closer.
“Manuel died in a car bomb. The bomb was planted on your father’s car. Boris Federov and my brother took the brunt of the blast while Don Bruno survived through sheer luck. They were there to discuss ending the war and coming to terms, and the Russian was acting as a go-between. I’m confident your father didn’t plant that bomb. I’m fairly confident Manuel and my father didn’t either. Which leaves Boris Federov, but why would he do it when he stood to benefit? Why would he go anywhere near that car if he knew about the bomb? Something doesn’t fit, Casso.”
I watch her carefully, studying the lines on her face, and take in what she’s saying. The bomb, the peace negotiations, the deaths. The blood and guts. Ten years gone but so fresh for her. “You’re right. I don’t think it was either of our fathers, and I doubt it was Boris.”
“Which means it was someone else. And there’s only one person we both know that’s still involved in what happened ten years ago.”
I sit slowly at the edge of the bed and she watches me. I feel the weight of hours and miles and the deaths of Danil’s men what feels like a lifetime ago. So much slaughter, and all for what? Fynn’s silent, unmoving form on the hospital bed.