Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 32295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32295 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 161(@200wpm)___ 129(@250wpm)___ 108(@300wpm)
"That's what I said! It's not like dancing is illegal."
I watch her intently, not speaking—not trusting myself to speak. Her pretty gray eyes flit across my face, her bright, trusting smile doing things to me that it shouldn't.
Doesn't she know she's dancing with a goddamn monster? Doesn't she have any sense of self-preservation at all?
Cristo. She should. If she had any idea why I'm here tonight, she wouldn't be looking at me like she is right now—like I'm some fucking prize.
I'm not. I'm a murderer. A liar. Her worst goddamn nightmare.
She tilts her head to the side, studying me. "Is there something wrong?"
I shake my head, burying my face in the crook of her neck. The scent of her hair swirls around me, clouding my head. Sweet vanilla with subtle notes of lavender. For a moment, I forget who we are or where we are.
"You smell good," I mumble against her skin, feeling the vibrations of her laughter.
"Thank you," she says softly. "It's my shampoo."
I'm fairly certain it's her, but I don't say that.
"You smell good, too," she confesses, her voice warm and sweet as honey. "Not like the rest of them."
Blinking, I pull back to meet her gaze, an eyebrow arched in silent query.
She giggles, the sound going straight to my fucking heart. "Half of them smell like they bathed in cologne," she whispers conspiratorially, her nose wrinkling in distaste. "It's suffocating." Her fingers tighten around my bicep. "You're the only one here not giving me a headache. I like it."
The unexpected compliment catches me off guard. I came here intending to blend in tonight, but the fact that I don't is precisely why she's looking at me with such avid curiosity and…trust. The irony of the situation makes me want to laugh—a cruel, bitter sound that would shatter this deceitful calm surrounding us.
"Why aren't you trying to impress him?"
"Who?"
"My dad." She nods toward the front of the room where he's still holding court. "Every other cop here is."
"I'm not a fucking cop." The words erupt from my lips harsher than I intended.
She notices. One brow rises toward her hairline before she laughs the tension away. "Well, thank God for that," she breathes. "Being the only civilian in the room was lonely."
She intends it as a joke, but there's a hidden depth to the comment that speaks volumes about her past. Karina Alessepo grew up cold and lonely, too—frozen out by his blue family, starving for affection, and alone in a world she didn't belong in.
Did he even notice?
Probably not. Just like he hasn't noticed her dancing with a stranger in the middle of the dance floor. Cristo. He doesn't deserve her.
An idea flickers, an opportunity unfurling like the wings of a dark angel. I wanted to kill him, but death is easy. Dismantling his world brick by brick would be far more painful. She's the key, a way of destroying him from the inside.
He may be a prick, but I'm guessing the prick loves her regardless. His world would crumble if she fell in love with a motherfucker like me. It's cunning, it's cruel, and it's exactly what he deserves.
He took everything from me. Why not take everything from him, starting with her?
Claiming her wouldn't be a hardship on my part. Not in the least. She's fucking gorgeous, and she's sweet as hell. I never saw myself bringing a woman into my world. It's dark and violent and ugly. But for this one? To claim her light as my own?
Yeah, I could work with that.
And I'm honest enough with myself to admit that it's not entirely about her father, either. I want her. Even before I knew she was Alessepo's kid, my dick was hard for her. When you live like I do, mired in shadow, even the weakest rays of the sun are tempting. And she's a fiery blaze.
She's innocence incarnate, a captivating combination of unattainable and irresistible to a motherfucker like me. I shouldn't want her, but I do—a craving that gnaws at my restraint.
I came to kill. Instead, I'll conquer.
With a subtle yet possessive touch, I wrap my hand around her hip, tugging her closer to my body. "You aren't a civilian, Karina," I murmur, my voice low and seductive. "You're a rebel, remember?"
Her eyes light up, a delighted laugh spilling from her lips. "What? You thought I forgot?" She smirks, heat in her gray eyes. "I never forget how to be bad, Coda. Especially if it pisses him off."
Ah, goddamn. She wants bad? Wants to rebel? Those innocent words set off an explosion in my mind. A dangerous desire courses through me as I imagine all the ways we're going to piss off her father together.
She has no idea the abyss she's dancing on the edge of, or the demon dying to lead her even closer to it.