Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 61652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61652 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Mocking them.
My stare shifted toward the hero, hauling ass out of the estate. Once the Mafia Casanova was in my face, he didn’t waver.
Not that I ever expected him to.
Romeo
“What the fuck are you doing here?”
He didn’t miss a beat. “Troy took her.”
I glared at him, simply questioning, “But who took her first?”
He eyed me skeptically, arching an eyebrow. “It doesn’t matter when someone as sadistic as he has her, and that’s where your concern needs to lie right now.”
I resisted the urge to fuck him up. “So you’re here as what? Her captor or her savior?”
His jaw tightened. “Both.”
I lunged at him, only to be held back by my father’s men.
“Romeo!” he roared, rushing over to stand by my side. With his hand on my shoulder, he demanded, “Stand the fuck down.”
My seething glare shot to my father’s calm one, trying to listen even though every bone in my body struggled to follow his orders.
The son of a bitch didn’t care in the least that I wanted to tear him to shreds. He knew I was aware of who he was and what he did for a living. If I could even call it that, living.
“Was she here? A week ago? Was she on this property?”
“If you’re asking me those questions, then you already know the answers.”
He was more like a death sentence for any woman who came in contact with him. Thinking of my baby sister at his mercy made my blood fucking sear. I always knew there was a chance for him to retaliate, but I never imagined it would be with Juliet.
How naive am I?
“Do you know what he’s into?” Dad questioned while I held on by a very thin thread.
“I can imagine,” he acknowledged, watching as my father pulled out his phone.
Picture after picture, lifeless body after lifeless body appeared on the screen.
If this motherfucker was surprised, he didn’t show it. He was a blank canvas of emotion. Where I was ready to attack like a guard dog, he was ready to strike like the snake he was.
“This is what your business partner has been doing since before your piece of shit father killed your mother in front of your eyes.”
He cocked his head to my father’s statement. “And yet you never came back for me, but I wasn’t her blood, was I?”
My heart pounded against my chest.
Louder and louder.
Faster and faster.
I exploded.
“Does Juliet know the truth?”
His gaze locked with mine, and I didn’t realize I was holding in a breath until he simply shook his head and stated, “Not yet.”
Juliet
“Ahhhhh!” I screamed bloody murder, jolting awake.
My head was throbbing, and the familiar pain was like coming home to Donovan when I first woke up on the piano in my old bedroom.
With wide eyes, my body propelled forward from the force of Troy’s whip hitting my stomach.
“Stop! Please stop!” I begged, not caring that I sounded so weak.
He didn’t; instead, he struck my chest, my legs, and the side of my neck. Blood immediately poured out of my flesh, staining my dress. I was shocked he’d left me clothed, and I wasn’t naked, shouting for mercy.
I was sweating profusely.
Shaking.
Panting.
Was this what dying felt like? Was this what Donovan’s mother felt?
“Well, well, well, look who finally decided to grace me with her presence. Did you take a nice nap, sleeping beauty?”
Whip to my inner thigh.
To the other one.
To the top of my mound.
“No more! Please, Troy, no more!”
“MASTER!” he yelled as the tail of the whip slammed against my cheek. “You call me Master! You’re my slave now!”
I refused. He’d kill me before I ever addressed him as anything other than a psychopath.
“NEVER!”
The whip hit the same spot on my stomach, and I almost threw up from the rip-roaring pain, reminding myself that I could live through this.
He’d come for me.
I knew it like I knew my name.
Pet.
My head hung by my chest. I was exhausted, and he had only just started beating my flesh. I realized I was tied to the same cross he’d beat me on the last time.
“Juliet…” he sang in the creepiest voice I’d ever heard in all my life.
It was one of those tones that you heard in a horror movie, triggering the hair on your arms to stand straight up. Fear creeped up my spine, becoming a part of me.
Like Donovan.
My master.
“Let’s play a game, shall we? I just love playing games. What do you think? Will you play for me, pet?”
He was using Donovan’s words to mess with my head.
“Fuck you.”
My head whooshed back from the force of his blow to the side of my face. I slowly turned my head around, glaring at him through the slits of my eyes, acting as if my cheek wasn’t on fire. “You hit like a bitch.” I spit blood on his face, and it landed near his mouth.