Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
I froze.
He towered over me, his sheer presence shoving me against my pillows. “I see it as plain as day in your eyes.”
“See what?”
“That you’re done.”
I jolted.
He’d stolen the words right out of my head.
Before I could deny, he sneered, “I don’t know how you’ll do it, but you will. Know how I know? I know because I’ve been there. I’ve suffered the loss of love. And it fucking butchered me.”
Glancing at the empty doorway where his wife had stood, I scowled. Had he loved another before her? How was that possible? They moved like orbiting planets around each other.
I couldn’t imagine him with anyone else. Loving someone else.
Fury tore through me. “If this is you trying to console me by saying I’ll love someone else one day, save it. Ily was mine. I don’t want anyone else. I will never—”
“I’m not saying that,” Q cut in. “I’m saying I lost Tess because I failed her. She walked out that door, and I let her. I planned on drinking myself to death.” Shoving his fists onto either side of my pillow, he grinned, “But I had a friend punch some goddamn sense into me. Just like I’m about to do to you. Thanks to that little fist-awakening, I went after her. I fought for her. I did something I didn’t think I was capable of all because of love.”
“You’re a fucking bastard, you know that?” I shoved him away. Fury turned to rage, and I found enough strength to swoop out of bed and stand.
I almost fell.
I blacked out for a second.
I hurt.
Fuck, everything hurt.
But I only had eyes for my heartless brother. “Don’t you think I’d fight for Ily if she’d just left me? Christ, you let Tess walk out the door! But I would’ve gotten on my motherfucking knees to prevent Ily from ever crossing the threshold. You needed a friend to punch sense into you? Fuck that, I know what I had. I know how lucky I was. I know how miraculous and rare our connection was. Don’t you get it?! I can’t do this without her. I don’t want to. So how about you leave me the fuck alone and let me get on with it!”
My knees gave out.
He smirked as he caught my elbow and held me steady. “Alright then. No punching required.”
Nausea squeezed my throat.
I wanted to be sick, not because of something I’d done but because of all the things I hadn’t. What would I give to have such trivial problems such as a misunderstanding or hardship? What would I trade to hold her again?
I knew what I would give.
I’d give my very life because it wasn’t worth a goddamn thing without her.
“Let me go,” I hissed. “Better yet, give me a knife and lock the door. Come back later.”
“I have a better idea.” Q tugged me toward the door. “Death can wait.”
“Fuck you.”
“I’m so glad to get to know you too, brother.” Q chuckled, his fingers pinching my elbow.
I fought his hold.
I tripped and almost fell.
“For God’s sake,” he huffed. “I believe you.” Slinging my casted arm over his shoulders, he clutched me close. “I believe you that you can’t live without her. And I won’t force you to. If you still want a knife after this…then fine. I’ll bring you the sharpest dagger I own.”
I panted hard as the hole in my side screamed.
My whip lashes howled.
But everything vanished as Q whispered, “You say you’re ready to fight for her…then stop fighting me and let me show you.”
The way he studied me.
The flicker in his eyes.
My anger petered out as grief pounced thickly.
I sagged in his hold and nodded. “Show me.”
Chapter Twenty- Two
………………………….
Henri
THERE WERE A FEW MOMENTS in my life that I would always remember—even the ones I’d forgotten, thanks to selective amnesia.
The day my father first came for me.
The day my mother died.
The moment I saw Ily in that nightclub.
And the disbelief when I found her alive.
Limping down the wide-open airy corridor—so different to Victor’s rustic medieval ones—I didn’t speak to Q, and he didn’t speak to me.
He kept me upright and offered his strength while I had none, guiding me through his home.
We passed multiple doors, some closed, some cracked open. The ones partially wide, revealed a few jewels I recognised. Caishen waved as he looked up from a writing desk. Rachel gasped and raced to her threshold as we passed. Her neck looked bare without her collar. Her wrists so fragile without their heavy golden cuffs.
My heart kicked in relief. She’d survived. Her child had survived.
I didn’t know if I was happy she hadn’t lost her baby or sick that a part of Victor would live on.
Nodding at me shyly, she tucked glossy dark hair behind her ear and hugged the terrycloth dressing gown covering her bump. Dashing toward me, she pressed her cheek against my chest and hugged me. “Hi.”