Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 136731 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 684(@200wpm)___ 547(@250wpm)___ 456(@300wpm)
My smile turned vicious, barely human, and I spoke through gritted teeth. “You can’t have her, you sick fuck. I’ll kill you first.” My finger wrapped around the trigger, but before I had a chance to cleanse the world of the pure evil in front of me, something came down hard on the back of my head, and as I landed on the ground with a thud, my head lolling to the side, my last vision before I lost consciousness was Dino taking my gun and handing it to his brother.
It was lost to me. I never saw it again, nor was I granted the use of a single weapon after that one incident. I think it was a shock to Dino. He believed me tamed in every way. I thought it was good to keep him on his toes, resisting ever so slightly at random moments over the years. I thought I was so smart. I resisted enough for Dino to have to repeat himself, never enough to truly make him angry. Truth was, at the time, resisting was all I had. I didn’t think too hard about what I was really doing. For Dino to have me struggle then submit over and over, it was a game to him, one I didn’t realize I was playing. My occasional defiance followed by a swift surrender had Dino thinking he was winning me, my body, every damn time.
Now that I knew this, I hated that I had given that to him.
So to have a man like Julius come into my life when I had fallen lower than the rocky crevices of hell, for him to hold me so tenderly when I cried, to wipe away my tears and kiss my forehead as if I were an exquisite treasure, that meant something to me.
I want to keep that.
I want to keep him for as long as he will allow it.
Perhaps I’m not the smartest girl in the world, but I’m not stupid enough to pass up what Julius makes me feel. And for once in my life, it’s good. Knowing that the unexplainable feeling is mutual is more than I could have imagined.
Now, as I avoid putting too much pressure on my still tender heel, Ling takes a seat at the bar, ordering drinks. I stand awkwardly by her side, and I just know she’s not going to offer me a seat, so I sit myself down beside her at the very moment the bartender places our drinks in front of us with a seductive smile.
When I dragged my ass out of bed and followed Ling to her room, she already had an outfit picked out for me. Wide-legged black pants with a tight black tank top and a beautifully intricate black lace wide-sleeved kimono-style cover that belted up around the waist. I picked up all the garments and moved to take them back to Julius’s room so I could change, when Ling yelled out, “I don’t bite, bitch.”
To that, I called out, “Sure you do,” and I stressed, “bitch.”
Her cackle sounded as I closed the door behind me.
Now, with my hair pulled up into a neat bun at the top of my head, completely makeup-free, I ignore the pounding in my temples and lift my drink to my mouth. The second I smell it, I wince and put it back down on the bar.
Ling, in her perfect red dress, with her perfect red pumps, and her perfect red lips fighting a pout, leans over. “What’s the problem?” The only imperfection on her is the white strap across the bridge of her still bruised nose. It looks so much better than it had the day before. It’s almost completely healed.
I shake my head and keep my eye on the bar. “It’s whiskey. I can’t drink whiskey.”
“God, you’re so fucking precious.” Her lips pucker in distaste, and she flips her dark, gorgeous, dead-straight hair over her shoulder, looking out into the crowd. “Order whatever the fuck you want then. Jeez.”
She signals the bartender, and I order a Cape Cod—more commonly known as a vodka cranberry—thanking him as he places the tall glass in front of me with a wink. I sip at the tart cocktail, and I salivate at the mild sweetness of the cranberry juice. I have a feeling I know the answer already, but I ask Ling, “Does Julius know we’re here?”
“No,” she responds immediately. “I was told to watch you.” She grins modestly. “He never said anything about not leaving the house.”
Oh, she thinks she’s so clever.
I stir my drink with my straw. “Is he going to be pissed?”
She turns to me slowly, throwing me a look that says ‘What do you think, genius?’
My shoulders slump, and I sigh quietly. “He’s going to be pissed.”
Crossing her leg over the other, she explains in a bored tone, “Julius is always pissed. There are just varying degrees of his pissiness. Some days, he’s less pissed than others. Besides, he doesn’t have to know. We’ll be back before he is.”