Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71832 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 359(@200wpm)___ 287(@250wpm)___ 239(@300wpm)
“You blame me, but Iain made his choice, and your father made it happen.”
“You were his friend. You could’ve stopped it.”
“Why would I do that? You think the Crowley organization is just a bunch of mindless thugs, but we’re more than that.”
She shakes her head and stands. “I don’t know what stories you’re telling yourself, but no matter how much power and influence you have, no matter how much money you make, you’re still a bunch of criminals. That’ll never change.”
I catch her wrist as she tries to walk past. “I don’t control what people do with their lives. Your brother made his own choices.”
“Yet here you are, trying to control me.” She stares straight ahead, jaw set. “This marriage thing is just another way of getting your hooks into my family.”
I hold on tighter. Does she really think this is about anything more than how badly I want her? Can she really believe anything matters to me as much as she does?
But she can’t see into my heart. She can’t feel what I’m feeling.
I release her. “Let’s go home.”
“Not my home.”
“Not yet.”
“Never will be.” She glances at me, her expression hard. “I don’t care what sort of dick voodoo you’ve got going on—”
“Dick voodoo?” My eyebrows raise.
“You know what I’m saying.” She cheeks turn pink with frustration. “Having a physical connection is never going to be enough. Do you hear me, Carson? It doesn’t matter if you’re right. It’s not enough.”
She walks out of the room, leaving me behind.
My hands curl into fists.
A physical connection.
That girl has no clue what she just unleashed inside of me.
Chapter 14
Ash
The Crowley mansion is magnificent.
Massive. Opulent. My brain fails to comprehend the scale. The landscaping is pristine, each bush perfectly manicured, each flower trimmed, and not a weed in sight. The grass looks like a football field. White columns line the front like the Parthenon. The front doors are massive, imposing.
Carson takes me in through the side. “How many people live here?” I ask, staring around at the art lining the walls. Staff passes us by, nodding respectfully as they hurry on to whatever pressing task makes them scamper around. Sound gets sucked into the heavy drapes, the thick carpets, the lush decor.
“Hard to say,” Carson admits. “Mom and Dad most of the time. My brothers and I come and go as needed though we all have our own places in the city. Some of the staff are here full-time. There are aunts, uncles, cousins. Members of the organization stay here occasionally, along with visiting diplomats and other rival family heads.”
“It’s like a hotel.”
“More like a circus.” I take her through back halls, avoiding the main section of the house where we might run into Dad. “Growing up here was interesting.”
“I can’t even imagine. We just passed, like… two dozen rooms already.”
“And I’ve explored every one. My brothers and I loved this house when we were kids. It was like our own little Narnia, at least until we got older and Dad cracked down on the childish games. Things changed when we became teenagers, but up until then…” He trails off, looking into the distance with a faraway stare.
It almost humanizes him. I can almost picture a little, innocent Carson having fun with his brothers, playing games, hiding in random closets, laughing and going on rich boy adventures.
But then I remember my father’s dead, my uncles are dead, and my brother’s on life support.
My poor brother. My vibrant, loud, exuberant brother, reduced to beeping hospital machines.
We climb a flight of stairs, follow a couple more halls, then push through a pair of French doors, only to end up in another hallway—this one sunny, lined with windows and more doors. Carson stops walking and gestures.
“This is you,” he says.
My eyebrows raise. “Sorry, what now? You mean, like, one of these rooms is for me?”
He shakes his head. “This is your wing. I wasn’t kidding when I said I’d give you an entire section of the house.”
I laugh once sharply. “You’re joking, right? I mean, can you just do that?”
“This wing is for guests. And yes, I can.” He starts walking away. “There are four bedrooms. I’ll be staying in the first one. You may pick from the remaining three.”
“Wait, hold on—you’re staying in this wing? We didn’t discuss that.”
“Of course I am,” he says, waving me off. “Now, there is a sitting room, a games room—”
“No, hold on, back to that other thing about you staying here.” I stop walking, glaring at him. “You’re not staying here.”
“Yes, I am.” He turns to face me, looking amused. “You think I’m going to let my wife stay all alone?”
“I’m not your wife.” I grind my teeth. “Don’t say that again.”
“You’re not yet, but you will be.” He leans against the wall, arms crossed. “Why are you fighting this so hard?”