Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78873 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
When minutes have passed, and I know I can’t hide in the bathroom forever, I loosen my hair from the ponytail and quickly pull a brush through it. I let the silky black strands cover the side of my face, falling like a curtain over the bruises. I take a deep breath before I walk to the door, and ducking my head low, I open it.
My heart instantly begins to beat faster, and I’m not sure if it’s from the shame for the marks on my skin, or the undeniable attraction I feel toward Lucian, or both.
All I want to do is dart back to the bathroom, but instead, I slowly inch my way through the bedroom until I reach the doorway. Lifting my head slightly, I peek into the living room just as Lucian glances in my direction. We both freeze, him with a towel in his hand and me dying of embarrassment.
Lucian is the first to talk, his tone soft but still commanding. “Come here, little bird.”
I swallow hard on the nervousness spinning in my stomach and walk toward him. When I’m within reaching distance, Lucian lifts his right hand to my face. His fingers brush over my skin as he pushes my hair behind my ear, and then he presses the towel to my jaw. It’s ice-cold, instantly chilling my skin.
I lower my eyes to his chest, but then he steps closer to me while he lifts his left arm. His hand cups the back of my head, and it makes me feel surrounded by him.
“The ice will help with the swelling,” he explains in a low tone that threatens to create an intimate bubble around us. “But you probably know this already.” His words make my eyes snap up to his, which has him saying, “I’m guessing Dante’s hit you before.”
Does he want me to tell him? Would it even matter if he knew all the things Dante’s done to me?
I search his strong features for the answers, but all I find is more confusion. Standing so close to him, with his aftershave filling the air, only makes my heart beat faster. It makes my stomach flutter and my skin tingle.
Do I want him to know?
My deepest fears. My darkest shame. My nightmares.
No, I don’t want him to know. I don’t want anyone to know.
The corner of Lucian’s mouth lifts slightly. “You don’t have to tell me,” he says as if he can read my thoughts. “But…” He leans down until his breath warms my ear, “if you tell me, I’ll probably kill Capone.”
My eyes widen slightly, and for a moment, I’m tempted. God, I’ve never been tempted like this in my life. If I sacrifice my deepest, darkest secrets, Lucian will kill Dante.
As Lucian pulls back, his mouth brushes along the curve of my jaw. My breaths explode over my lips, and without thinking, I yank back, quickly putting a safe distance between us. The towel drops from his hand, and the icy slush spills onto the floor.
My eyes collide with Lucian’s dark brown gaze, and the expression in them has my heart instantly thundering in my chest. He stares at me with predatory desire.
I’ve seen that look before. Many times as Dante defiled me.
The fear creeping through me is different, though. With Dante, the terror was always accompanied by disgust and devastating shame. It was traumatic.
With Lucian… it terrifies me for a different reason. There’s no disgust. There’s no shame. I’m only filled with an ungodly fear because it would be so easy to fall for him. It would be so easy to seek refuge in his arms. To have him fight my battles.
Only, it would cost my freedom, and it’s the one thing I’m not willing to give up on. It’s the only thing that’s kept me going over the past four years.
Lucian looks like the possessive kind. Once he has me, I’ll just become a prisoner again. The only thing that will change is the walls of my prison.
And God knows what new horrors they will bear witness to.
LUCIAN
Fuck, this is hard. I’m trying not to scare the shit out of Elena, but it’s impossible to hide how I feel. The more skittish she becomes, and the thicker her fear grows, the more I fucking want her.
The darkest part of me wants to feel her tremble. I want to hear her beg for my mercy and not the goddamn statue out in the garden. I want her fearing only me so she’ll fully submit.
It’s fucking sick, but the desires are overpowering.
I suck in a deep breath of air, fighting the dominant side of me until my muscles loosen a little.
On my left shoulder sits the devil, whispering for me to take what I want. To make Elena mine. No matter the cost. No matter the blood, I’ll have to spill. No matter the damage it will do to my family name.