Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
How can I give myself to a man who’s capable of slaying an entire family line? A man who so unforgivingly can put a bullet through someone’s head simply for existing in the wrong room at the wrong time. A man who shamelessly walks into a human trafficking auction house and is the one they fear?
How stupid could I be?
My hands shake as I reach for the power button at the bottom of the screen, and as the screens come to life, something within me dies.
Each screen is just as horrifying as the next.
The first screen has a naked man hanging from chains, his body broken and beaten. His eyes are swollen, barely able to open them, but there’s no mistaking the tears staining his face.
The next is a frail-looking man in a cell with hollowed cheeks and his whole rib cage visible, even through this shitty camera. He looks as though he’s been there for years, and I bet if he had the option, he would end his misery without a second thought. Though it makes me wonder, someone so frail should have perished long ago. Is Killian giving him just enough nutrition to keep him alive and prolong his misery?
Moving to the next screen, I see a woman strapped to a chair. She’s filthy. Her hands are strapped to the arm rest, and while it’s hard to tell through the camera, it looks as though each one of her fingernails have been pulled out. I can’t imagine the pain, but I also can’t imagine what kind of crime she committed to deserve such a punishment.
The tears fill my eyes to the point I can’t make out the figures on the rest of the screens, but I’ve seen more than I can possibly stomach.
Feeling around the bottom of the screen, I turn it off before stumbling out of the store room, and as my mind becomes trapped by the horrid images, my stomach clenches.
Nausea sweeps over me, and I hurry from Killian’s office, slamming through the door of what I thought was a bathroom, only to come face-to-face with the man. He spins, not having expected anyone to come through the door. His eyes widen just a fraction, and I swallow the nausea as it quickly turns to fear.
He strides toward me, fury in his eyes, but despite his sheer size and his imposing nature, I see past him into the small room to a familiar woman sitting in a stiff-back chair with absolute terror in her eyes.
“What—what are you doing?” I demand, my heart racing as my gaze locks onto the woman’s pleading expression, but the longer I look at her, the more familiar she becomes. She’s one of the wives. I spent the majority of that interaction with my gaze locked on Monica’s, but there were three others. One of them clearly had Monica’s back, but the other two were silent and unsure. This woman was there, but she didn’t have a hand in any of Monica’s bullshit.
“OUT,” Killian roars, the venom in his tone making my whole body shake.
“No,” I panic, my horrified stare flicking between Killian and the helpless woman. “What are you doing? I thought you were going to let me handle this. She didn’t do anything. It wasn’t her.”
“Out, Chiara,” he spits. “I told you your time was running out. You failed to give me a name or come up with a suitable solution, so now I will take matters into my own hands, and believe me when I tell you that I will enjoy my chance to break her.”
Tears fall from my eyes, the horrors from that store room still too fresh in my mind to deal with this too. Is he going to strap her to a chair and pull her fingernails out one by one or hang her from an industrial chain and beat her black and blue?
“Killian, please,” I beg. “Don’t hurt her. She didn’t do anything. She didn’t know what was going to happen. She’s innocent.”
“None of them are innocent,” he roars. “Their silence is a betrayal of their loyalty. In protecting the woman who put her hands on my wife, they betray the DeLorenzo name and will be punished.”
I reach for him, fisting my hands into the front of his shirt, and I stare up into those dark, hollow eyes. “Please. If I give you a name, will you just . . . please. Don’t do this. She doesn’t deserve this. Let her go, Killian. I know there’s still good left inside you. You don’t have to be this way. You can still have power without the pain. Please, just let her go. For me.”
A softness shimmers in his heavy stare, and as he forces my hands to release his shirt, he reaches up and wipes the fresh tears from my cheek. “Go, Chiara. It’s too late. I will get the name I need, but it won’t be from you.”