Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142783 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
“I know you will.”
It was then my phone buzzed with a text. I scrambled to grab it, praying for a miracle.
That this whole thing was a misunderstanding.
That she was safe.
I frowned when I saw it was a text from Haille.
Haille: It’s rude to turn down a thoughtful invitation, no? My house at 10 or I’ll have to find a more interesting way to entertain myself. She is an intriguing artifact.
A cold sweat broke out on the nape of my neck.
Haille: I think you are well aware of what tonight’s ante is. I hope you don’t disappoint me.
A tacky awareness slipped over my skin.
Prickles of disgust and disbelief.
Greed.
It had driven me for years.
I’d believed I’d had something to prove.
Had hungered for the power.
For the gain to rise superior over my enemies.
So I’d sat at that man’s table and made friends with the beast.
I’d filled my cup with treasure until it’d overflowed with wealth.
But in the end, there was only one thing I wanted.
FORTY-SIX
ASTER
When the light goes dim…
My lover.
My life.
My North Star.
What did you do? What did you do?
Grief blew through me like a parched, stricken desert.
Dry and brittle.
No stars or light or reason.
A total eclipse.
I’d only wanted to go. To leave. To escape.
Money didn’t matter. My comfort was in you.
So I’d trusted you to whisk us away. To come to your senses. For you to turn your back on the greed that had tainted my family.
Our time had come and gone.
One a.m. then two.
Dread had filled me to overflowing and threatened to wash me away in the undertow.
I’d heard the frantic footsteps that pounded the compound, the shouts and the anger and the disbelief.
With my heart barely beating, I’d sneaked back inside and slipped down the hall where I’d pressed my back to the wall outside of Papa’s office, listening to the chaos that ensued inside.
It was filled with men, but it was Jarek who’d ranted in stark pain. “That asshole,” he’d hissed, holding himself way up high on his side. “He killed Antonio in cold blood, Andres. He tried to kill me. He took the stones. He took them,” he gritted in abhorrence.
Devastation curled.
Wound and whispered and made me sink farther against the wall to keep myself from slipping to the floor.
My uncle? My uncle was dead?
How could I believe it?
That you would do it?
In shock, I’d peered into the room as if it might paint a different picture.
But it was blotted in red.
Disfigured and mangled and wrong.
The light on Papa’s desk shined through the darkness and illuminated the blood that dripped onto the floor.
Jarek’s shirt was soaked in it.
To me, it’d looked like death.
If only I could have hoped to be so lucky.
That there would have been a measure of grace in this torment.
You’d betrayed my father.
You’d betrayed me.
Because you didn’t come.
And it had come to this.
I’d heard my papa’s voice, his fist that’d slammed against the desk, the horrible words that crashed out, “He will die for this. His whole family. See to it.”
So I’d run.
Run down the corridor with frantic gasps raking from my lungs.
I’d known I had to get to you. Find you. Understand why.
Why?
Why?
Why?
I’d run back to our secret spot, praying you would be waiting. That you would explain it all.
Again, you weren’t there.
I waited and paced some more.
You still didn’t come.
But Jarek did, his dark shadow covering me when he appeared from behind.
Scorn lined his face. “He’s dead, Aster. He’s fucking dead and you’re mine.”
Fear had slithered like the coil of snakes down my spine, pooled in my stomach as he took a step toward me, like the rage that held him had eradicated the wound that oozed from his side.
Instinctively, I’d set my hands over my stomach.
Over our child.
As if I could protect him.
Jarek’s eyes had gone there, and I’d lost air when I’d seen the flash of contempt light in his eyes the moment he knew.
I’d turned to run.
To flee.
I screamed when he grabbed me by the hair, when he yanked me back, when his fist found my face.
He dragged me deeper into the hidden places in the garden.
I’d kicked and pled, but there was no mercy from a merciless man.
“He will die for taking what is mine. Both the stones and this body.”
Agony overwhelmed as he struck me.
Each blow had come harder than the last, powerful enough to shatter bone, to shatter courage, to shatter sanity.
His fists and his boots and the grip of his gun.
So much pain.
But still, I’d fought. With every part of me, I’d fought.
I’d rolled to my side, rocking, curling into a ball to keep him protected.
Jarek had ripped my head up by my hair, and the vile voice whispered like it could be a balm in my ear. “Don’t cry, Aster. This is what was meant to be. You’ll see. You’ll see.”
He’d hauled me to the side gate while I’d prayed for you. I’d even prayed for my father.