Cor Amare (The Luna Duet #2) Read Online Pepper Winters

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Luna Duet Series by Pepper Winters
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Total pages in book: 208
Estimated words: 207002 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1035(@200wpm)___ 828(@250wpm)___ 690(@300wpm)
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Tears shot to my eyes as I locked down my agony and stepped to the next and the next.

My journey up those stairs was depressingly slow. My damaged heart pounded and fluttered by the time I reached the decadent landing. Only two weeks I’d been in the caves, but the strength I’d gathered was once again destroyed.

My cane tip sank into the thick carpet. The carved sideboard held a vase of flowers wider than two men.

The fragrance teased my nose as we drifted past.

Sweet and subtle, like honeysuckle—

No.

Like frangipani.

The moment my mind ripped that word from the tomb where I’d shoved all my memories, I stumbled.

I didn’t have the strength or the balance to stop my fall.

I landed on my knees.

I grunted with pain.

My mind swam as the two guards came back and unceremoniously picked me up. One on each side, they helped me down the stretch of corridor.

Expensive landscapes and impressive renders blurred as I clung to coherency. I lost track of how many doors we passed before they finally stopped, turned the ornate handle of the one we stood before, and pushed it open.

Without a word, they helped walk me inside, only stopping once they’d placed me on the plush purple couch under the high bay window.

Backing away with a bow, they kept their eyes on the carpet. “Can we do anything else for you, efendim?”

I had no doubt they’d tell the rest of the hired help how useless I was. How fragile and pitiful and broken.

But that was my father’s problem, not mine.

I’d begged for death enough times to think the devil himself had forgotten me. No matter how close I came to dying or how often my heart stopped, I never managed to stay dead.

I’d be grateful to anyone who succeeded.

But my father would be distraught.

Five years of hard work.

Five years of reconditioning.

All for nothing if one of his guards whispered to one of his enemies that his broken son would be easy pickings.

Sitting upright, I placed my hands on my thighs. “That’s all. You’re dismissed.”

“We’ll be outside your door if you need anything.” As one, they turned on their heel and stalked out of the suite. The click of the only exit closing sent a frisson of fear through me, but I shut it down immediately.

It didn’t matter that I was closed in.

I’d been imprisoned in a cage for five years.

At least this new one was so much better.

I’d lived in decadence on the days that I obeyed. But this new suite was given now I was a lord.

A suite I already hated.

Gritting my teeth, I struggled to stand, grabbed my cane, and shuffled forward to investigate. The gold, green, and blue carpet flowed through every room, lapping at the legs of gilded tables and fancy furniture. A table full of colourful glass bottles glittered in the late afternoon sunlight, and the closed double doors depicted a battle scene.

I hoped this led to the bedroom.

I wanted to sleep.

To forget.

To hide.

Running my fingers over the carvings, I pitied the poor people skewered on the ends of spears and swords. Horses jumped over corpses, and flags flew in the distance with the crescent moon and single star of my country.

Bracing myself, I pushed the doors apart and gasped at the splendour before me. The wall to my left was entirely made of an antiquated mirror. Tarnished in the corners and speckled throughout, the murky image refracted the room so it seemed there were two beds, two balconies, two potted palm trees.

The bed could house ten people. The pillows piled high with lace, jewels, and silk. A bronze chaise waited at the foot of the bed while lamps made of blown glass with smoky brown swirls stood sentry at the head on either side.

No bedframe, just rivers of silver blankets and perfectly pressed sheets.

I’d never seen anything so inviting.

My body threatened to drop to the floor before I could experience the relief of falling face first into its cloud-like welcome.

I could sleep for decades.

I could sleep until I died...

Something moved amongst the mountains of pillows.

Something dressed in the same glittery silver as the coverings.

Slowly, a girl sat up.

A stunning girl with dark-brown hair styled in floaty waves over her slim shoulders. Her cheekbones were high and her eyelashes so thick they moved like fans over her intense dark eyes.

I froze.

Without a word, she slithered off my bed. The scarves she wore flowed around her like water. They barely covered her breasts and swayed seductively around her legs as she padded barefoot toward me.

I fisted my cane.

I schooled myself not to move.

As she walked past the mirrored wall, I caught sight of myself.

I didn’t recognise the man staring back.

When I’d been bathed, pampered, and dressed in my suit this morning, I hadn’t been given a mirror. I’d been shaved by my father’s personal groomer and dressed by his personal tailor.


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