Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 72308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72308 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
The man’s eyes were wide, unsure what he would do next.
I didn’t know what he would do next either.
“The. Wrong. Guy.” Bartholomew removed his boot then stepped back, arms at his sides, slowly nodding like he was digesting information. “Let’s see about that.” He turned and landed his gaze on me. It was like a fishhook right in my lip. It snagged me and dragged me forward to his side. “Camille, do you recognize this man from the charity dinner at the palace?”
My eyes stayed on Bartholomew.
His head cocked sideways slightly, his eyes demanding my incrimination.
My testimony would decide this man’s fate. I would either be responsible for his life or his death.
He nodded to one of his men.
The guy on the floor was forced upright so his face was on display.
I did recognize him. Instantly. He’d worn a loud purple tie that pained my eyes.
He recognized me too. It was obvious in the way his eyes contracted. Then they pleaded. Pleaded for mercy.
“Camille.” Bartholomew demanded my answer.
I didn’t know what this guy had done, but I didn’t want to be the one to pull the trigger. “I-I’m not sure.”
The man closed his eyes in overwhelming gratitude.
The room was already silent, but somehow, that silence deepened. The look on Bartholomew’s face was indescribable. He always wore an impassive face, but this was the first break in that habit. He took one step toward me, his heavy boots making a distinct thud. He took another step. Another thud. Then he stopped directly before me, his eyes burning with ferocity. “Fuck with me again and see what happens. This is your only warning.” He lowered his voice, speaking so only I could hear the horrifying threat.
Cauldron could be scary at times. So could Grave. But Bartholomew…was different.
Bartholomew stepped away. “Camille.” Now he raised his voice, his anger getting to him. “Do you recognize this piece of shit on my floor?”
The man started to shake, knowing his death was sealed.
I had to watch a man burn me with his gaze while another man begged for his life. And this all happened in silence. But I knew Bartholomew was already aware of this man’s betrayal, so my lie wouldn’t spare him anyway. “Yes…I recognize him.”
It all happened so fast.
Bartholomew moved like an animal, jumping on the man on the floor and slamming his boot down into his head. Over and over.
I gave a gasp and ran out of the room, hearing the screams as they followed me.
Thud. Thud. Thud.
Scream. Scream. Scream.
Then the cries abruptly stopped.
But the thuds continued.
I knew that man’s skull was stomped into pieces. Blood everywhere. His body lifeless.
I jabbed the button on the elevator and prayed for those doors to open. Gotta get the fuck out of here. Finally, the doors slid open, and I headed for the SUV that was still waiting. I hopped inside, and the driver gave me a peculiar look, like he didn’t know what to do.
“Just take me home.”
I wasn’t the boss, so he made a quick call. He must have gotten Bartholomew’s approval because he hung up and took me to my apartment.
A couple hours later, a knock sounded on the door.
It was midnight.
Who the fuck would be on my doorstep at this time of night?
Cauldron was the first person to pop into my head, but I knew that was the wrong answer.
My phone lit up with a text. We need to talk.
It was Bartholomew.
Did he come to make good on his threat? What do you want?
To talk—like I said.
I didn’t know what to do. I was two seconds away from calling Grave.
I would never hurt you.
Not what you said earlier…
I fight men with fists, but I fight women with words. Unless they try to kill me… That’s a different story. Now, open the door.
I stayed on the couch.
I’m trying to be a gentleman by not kicking down your door, Camille.
I’d watched him kick a skull in, so I knew that threat wasn’t empty. Coming. I opened the front door and saw him in his leather jacket. He must have changed because his clothes weren’t stained with blood…and other things.
His calm stoicism had returned.
With one hand on the door, I stared at him.
He stared back. “Are you going to invite me inside?”
I stepped aside and gestured for him to enter the apartment. “Are you a vampire?”
“I’m neither dead nor alive, so maybe I am.” He stepped into the main sitting room and took a look around, but he didn’t issue any compliments.
I followed him, arms across my chest, a little uncomfortable wearing my pajamas around him. “Why are you here?”
He paced the living room for a second, his hand rubbing across his jawline before he met my gaze. “To check in.”
“A text would have sufficed.”
“But a text can conceal a lie. A look can’t.” He scanned my face with his intelligent eyes, like his brain was a supercomputer that could pick up every finite detail. “I apologize if my behavior frightened you.”