Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78236 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
I huff out an exasperated sigh. “Crue does not own me. He’s marrying my sister, remember.”
“And how did that happen?” Dawson bites back with more fierceness than I expect from him. “I don’t have any siblings, but I imagine it’s not fair on Honey to be stepping into the middle of whatever chaos you two have between you.”
His words hit hard.
Honey knows what she’s stepping into.
But does she?
Do any of us?
I cut a brief glance in Crue’s direction, and his stare is pinned on me and Dawson.
Fuck! I turn so I can’t see him anymore, my heart leaping out of my chest.
“I liked you more when you spoke less and were simply pretty,” I say to Dawson.
He gives me his most wicked smile. “I could say the same for you.”
“Are you enjoying the party, Dawson?” Honey says in a way that breaks the tension between us. And I wonder if it’s because perhaps Honey fancies him. Or is it that she simply plays hostess well? Either way, I excuse myself.
The reality is, I don’t think Honey knows what she’s signing up for. A man like Crue expects complete obedience, and my throat constricts at how she might falter under his gaze. She may love the lifestyle, but mostly, she has lived freely. Does she not understand the collar and chain that is Crue Monti?
I pass by Mrs. Monti, her obvious glare taking me in from head to toe, ticking up my irritation. Then again, I suppose the last time she saw me, I was supposed to marry her son and shot him instead.
CHAPTER 66
Crue
I throw back my whisky and follow her.
Because, of course, I can.
What else am I supposed to do?
Rya steps into the library and I follow her, closing the door behind us. She doesn’t so much as look over her shoulder as she trails her finger along the spines of a shelf of books.
That tight black dress clings to her curves, that body my hand knows the workings of inside and out. My cock twitches at the reminder. This insufferable woman who has created so much damage in my life, and yet I find myself still drawn to her.
Obsessed.
Captivated.
Be-fucking-witched.
I can’t let her go, even though everything is in motion for me to be elsewhere.
To marry someone else.
“Have you slept with her?” Rya asks her tone even.
I watch her uncomfortably, adjusting my cock.
What the fuck do I have to lose? I want to savor her if this is the last time I’ll see Rya Ricci.
“You are the only one I think of. In those little red pieces. The way your pulse feels beneath my hand as I strangle your delicate neck.”
“Stop that,” Rya hisses as she finally looks over her shoulder. She walks over to the wooden desk at the end of the long room, her nails click and drag as they always do when she’s thinking.
“What! Being honest? At least one of us is, princess.”
She chuckles. “It must be the end of the world if Crue Monti is an example of honesty.”
“When have I ever lied to you?”
“Twisting and not fully disclosing the truth is not being honest. That shit you pulled in New York made me do some serious questioning, especially with that fat payout I received from the Torrisi family right before their sudden demise. Care to explain that?”
I lean against the door, hitching a leg up with a smile. “Is there much to explain, princess? I saw an opportunity and took it.”
“You used me,” she seethes.
“I made you rich.”
“I never cared about the money,” she admits quietly as she absently rifles through things on the desk. The room is dark, but there’s enough light beaming in from beneath the door that I can make out her silhouette.
“Is there anything you care about?”
The question lingers in the air. Fuck going around in these circles. I stride toward her, erasing the distance between us. She’s stiff at my movement as I round the desk, like she might bolt at the first chance. But I’m used to that now and have grown incredibly tired of all this bullshit. “At least one of us is willing to meet this head-on. I never considered you a coward,” I say.
I reach for her face, but she slaps my hand away. I expect to see rage burning from her usually calculating gaze, but instead, I find uncontrolled tears streaming from her eyes. I freeze. Furious, unrelenting emotions boil to the surface, and I’m too stunned to know how to deal with her. Hell, she doesn’t even know what to do with them.
“Stop fucking with me, Crue. You are nothing but an asshole,” she says angrily as she shoves me with her finger. “You have only ever cared about yourself, so don’t you dare tell me I am the coward.”
I catch her finger and pull her to me, making sure my other hand rests over my gun. I won’t fall for that a second time. She looks up at me with wet lashes. The smell of her perfume and her body's comfort against mine consume me.