Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54814 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 274(@200wpm)___ 219(@250wpm)___ 183(@300wpm)
“Can I have more wine?” she asked.
“Help yourself,” he replied, diving into his food before it got cold.
She stood up and retrieved the wine from the kitchen counter, refilling her glass. Much to his surprise, she walked over to his side of the table with it.
“Refill?” she asked.
He held up his glass and watched as she poured it, careful to keep his guard up in case she decided to brain him with the bottle. Instead, she merely refilled his glass and set the bottle down on the table before returning to her own seat.
“Thank you,” he replied.
“You’re welcome. Thank you for dinner. It’s really good. The bread is delicious.”
“It’s my ma’s recipe.”
“Is your mother still alive?”
“No. We lost her years ago. My father is still with us.”
“I’m sorry about your mother. It’s probably for the best, though.”
“Excuse me?” he replied, putting down his spoon and glaring at her.
“I would think she’d be ashamed to have a son who would abduct a woman before her wedding.”
Fergus could feel the heat spreading upward across his face. He hit the table with his fist, sending everything clattering across it, the wine narrowly escaping a descent to the floor. Storming toward her, he yanked her up by one arm and hauled her over to the sofa. She was wide-eyed as he shoved her down onto it, reaching for the roll of duct tape he had kept handy on the side table in case he needed it. She started to protest.
“No. Please. I’m sorry,” she whined, but it was too late for that.
Fergus slapped a piece of duct tape over her mouth to shut her up and then made quick work of securing her hands and feet so that she sat on the sofa, unable to move or speak. Tears flooded down her frightened face as he stormed off to his bedroom, leaving her there while he cooled off a bit.
When he returned, she had managed to lay down sideways on the sofa, sobbing gently into a nearby cushion. He grabbed a chair and pulled it over to where she sat, sitting it in front of her and pulling her upright before taking a seat across from her. He opened the envelope he had brought with him and began taking out photos, holding each one up in front of her so she could get a good look.
He could see the light go out in her eyes, slowly at first, but then just extinguished. They were empty, cold. She was being broken down, and that’s what she’d earned for herself. He had no sympathy. When he was done, he picked her up and carried her to her room, laying her on the bed. He couldn’t help but note how terrified she looked as he pulled out his knife. Slipping it inside the tape on her wrists, he slit one side, but didn’t remove it. She could figure it out for herself.
Fergus threw the photos down on the bed beside her and walked out, locking the door behind him.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Eimear
Eimear’s heart raced. Why had she said that to him? She couldn’t help but know how unkind she had been, but hadn’t he deserved it? She had thought so until he pulled out the photos. Now, she knew he was a monster, but she knew something else too. He hadn’t been lying to her.
She finished removing the tape he’d left and laid on the bed, staring up at the ceiling. He’d left the photos like she’d want to look at them again. Once had been more than enough, or so she thought. Instead, she found herself picking them up and looking at them again. Something inside her needed them melted into her brain in case she forgot them at some point in the future. She needed to remember just how vile they were.
There he was, her future husband—lost in a sea of photos showing him with other women. They were dated and timestamped, proving he’d been unfaithful on the regular. She recognized the woman he’d introduced once as his secretary. She was spread out across his desk, her head tilted back as he fucked her mouth. There were numerous photos of him with other women she recognized, some of whom were married. She even recognized the interior of some of their homes, and there were more than a few in their own beds.
Those were the milder ones. There was group sex. Sex with men. Perhaps the hardest one to see had been a photo of him with his cock buried in another man who didn’t really seem like he was enjoying it. She wasn’t sure if she was more disturbed by the fact that he’d been having sex with men behind her back or that he might have merely been using it as a punishment for someone who crossed him. That is what Fergus had claimed when he showed her the picture.