Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 108119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Or against.
I slammed my knuckles against the desk and then stomped over to the side room and shoved the heavy metal door open. “Out.”
Four of my men stood and left.
I faced the wall of cameras.
I knew hers by heart.
I knew everything.
Because the minute they’d brought her in, I heard silence. They screamed, all of them screamed, they struggled, they cursed.
This girl, this woman, looked relieved.
And as my men passed me by in the hall, for two seconds she lifted her eyes to mine and I felt a fissure of tension erupt between us. She was looking at me like I was the hero in the story, not the villain.
It was a new feeling, having a woman look at me that way. It was also hateful, because they all used to look at me like that, and I’d done exactly what my father did. I’d followed in his footsteps, it didn’t matter that I saved who I could.
Because I still damned the rest, didn’t I?
That was three days ago.
Three days of watching her lay across her bed, arms spread out like she was on a damn vacation in the Caribbean. A small smile on her face as she fell asleep like she was finally at peace.
Like I, Andrei Petrov, seller of women.
Had saved her.
She couldn’t be more wrong.
I watched as she lifted her arms to the ceiling and then let them drop back down at her sides, and then she yawned, her blanket of hair moving across the pillows as she rose up on her side.
She wasn’t just beautiful. She was stunning, the kind of beauty that made a man forget himself. The kind that would bring a man to his knees.
My least favorite.
Because women, in my experience, didn’t know how to handle the chore of that sort of beauty, so they either manipulated it or wasted it.
I watched another ten minutes as she smiled.
I expected more tears.
And then she laughed
I put my hand on the screen, I had this impossible need to hear it, to close my eyes and see if it would make me feel better about what I did. And I knew I was the sort of man, to steal that laugh.
And replace it with hate.
CHAPTER FOUR
Alice
The man with the tattoo on his left hand would come again and let me use the restroom. I’d been left alone close to an hour already.
I leaned up on my elbows and stared down at my tattered clothing.
Black leggings.
A ripped baseball shirt that I’d put on for bed, and no shoes, not even any socks.
I stared at the door and waited.
It was the only constant in my life now.
My bathroom breaks, and when they would bring me food.
One by one, the locks jerked back making a shrieking sound as the door moaned open.
It wasn’t the same man.
It was a man.
But different.
With lighter features, icy blue eyes, and golden blond hair that made him look like he should be on the cover of a magazine not giving me a bathroom break.
His cheekbones were high, his jaw firm.
I gulped.
Because he didn’t look happy.
No, he looked pissed.
And I’d been on the other end of that look my whole life.
I very quickly squeezed my eyes shut and whispered. “Can you please just make it fast, please?”
I didn’t sense any movement. My heart was beating erratically as I wrapped my arms around my legs and tucked my head against my knees, if I fought it would only hurt more, if I just let it happen, it would be over soon, it was always over soon with Aldo. Half the time he couldn’t even perform let alone do anything other than touch me and squeeze me until I had bruises marring my breasts.
“Slut. Whore,” he’d whispered in my ear. Saliva ran down my chin onto my shaking hands. “You shake because you want your own brother. Say it! Say you want me!”
I never did.
And he hated me for it.
More than he hated himself, I think.
He was raised to dominate.
And I was raised to look the other way.
Any minute now, this blond man’s hands would be on me, any second, I would smell his breath on my neck, and it would have liquor on it, because that’s where foolish men gained courage, wasn’t it? And he would be sloppy because he was drunk, and maybe he’d pass out.
Dear God, help him to pass out.
I was shaking so hard that the bed was moving.
I couldn’t stop it. At least I knew what Aldo would try. This man, I didn’t know. This man didn’t look like he was capable of a smile.
I knew it, like I knew that Hell existed — this man was many things.
Good, was not one of them.
“Come,” he said in a rich voice.
Slowly I lifted my head as two men walked past him and unlocked the chains wrapped around my ankles.