Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 68004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68004 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 340(@200wpm)___ 272(@250wpm)___ 227(@300wpm)
I’m not sorry.
I love him. I think he loves me, too. But if there’s one thing Jafar worships in this life, it’s power. How can love compare to that kind of devotion?
“Swear fealty or get out. This will be your only chance. Insubordination will not be tolerated.” I spread my hands, knowing all too well the picture I paint. The bloody bride, who will murder any man who tries to bend her to his will. “You know the price of disobedience. Decide now.”
One man turns and walks out. I recognize the one who wanted Jafar to share me that first night. I wait, but no one follows him. It’s better than I dared hope. I nod to Jonah. “Bring in the ones who scattered at my father’s death. Give them the same choice, and respect it.” I turn my attention to the rest of them. “Set up a perimeter. We will have to retake several of the facilities, but you’re more than up to the task. Reclaiming my father’s legacy starts now.” The words taste foul on my tongue, but it’s a sentiment these men can understand. Can respect.
I turn and walk slowly up the stairs. This might have been the first sticking point, but it will not be the last. Others will test me and I’ll have to put them down in order to prevent a full-scale rebellion. I clench the skirt of my dress with shaking hands to hide even that small tell. I’ll get through it. I don’t have any other choice.
It’s only when I’ve locked myself in my room, stripped out of the hated dress, and stepped beneath the scalding hot water that I allow the tears to fall. I didn’t want this. Any of it. Not my father’s legacy, not the price it will demand of me.
But it’s the cost of my freedom. To be answerable to no one but myself means stepping from my father’s shadow—from Jafar’s shadow, from Ali’s shadow—and into the role of queen.
I watch the water run pink and press my lips together to keep the sobs internal. Had I thought Jafar and I stood a chance, even after I left him? He’ll come for me. I have no doubts about that.
But will he bend a knee?
Or will I lose him forever?
Chapter 21
Jafar
We make it to Balthazar’s house in record time, and even then I know it’s not fast enough. Hours have passed since Ali took Jasmine, hours in which he could have done anything to her. He won’t have killed her, but that is the only thing I can guarantee. Next to me, Jeremiah keeps a white-knuckled grip on the steering wheel as we take the winding curves leading to the house at reckless speed. I can’t relax, can’t affect an unconcerned tone. My ability to dissemble has disappeared alongside Jasmine. “We do nothing to jeopardize her safety.”
He clears his throat. “That puts us at a disadvantage if he starts shooting the second we pull up to the house.”
“Nothing, Jeremiah. That’s an order.”
It takes five minutes longer to reach the gate, and I spend the entirety of that time going over the different choices I could have made to prevent Jasmine from feeling like she had to run from me. Fuck, how many times did I offer to get her out? Rationally, I know that my giving her an out isn’t the same as her taking one for herself, but fear surpasses logic time and time again.
She’s in danger.
She’s suffering at Ali’s hands right now.
It’s my fault.
We stop in front of the gates, the trio of cars behind us falling in line. It’s closed, barring access to the property, but I expected no less. What I didn’t expect is Balthazar’s former head of security standing there with his arms crossed, his gun on full display. He didn’t make the jump with me, and last I heard, he wasn’t exactly pleased with Ali either.
Why the fuck is he here?
I ignore Jeremiah’s noise of warning and climb out of the car. I round the front, but stop several yards away. “I’m here for Jasmine.”
Jonah shakes his head slowly. “You made that play, and it was the wrong one.”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Ali is making the same play.”
“Was.”
I narrow my eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Exactly what I said.” Jonah is as implacable as ever. “Get back in your car. If she wants to see you, you can go through—just you and whoever is in the first car. The others will wait.”
I try to pick his words apart. Ali was making the same play, past tense. If she wants to see me? What the hell is going on? I barely smother my need to pepper Jonah with more questions. He won’t answer me, and it might piss him off enough to refuse us access. We can fight our way through the gate if we have to, but if there’s a chance to get through on peaceful terms, I have to take it. “So be it.”