Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114260 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 571(@200wpm)___ 457(@250wpm)___ 381(@300wpm)
“Don’t call me that,” she says, and when her voice wobbles a little, my heart breaks. I’ve done her wrong, and I’m paying the price. I’d give up my goddamn kingdom to erase the hurt in her eyes. I’d give up damn near anything.
“Violet—” I reach for her, but she throws her hand up, palm facing me.
“No, Mr. Master. I’m Miss Price to you. I came here for your help in finding my parents’ murderer, and now we’re on the cusp of a breakthrough. We’ll finish this job.” Her voice is cold and distant, as hollow as an empty shell. “And then we’re over. I can’t be with a man I can’t trust.” Her voice breaks, and fresh tears spill down her cheeks. “You were the only one I thought I could.”
I expected her anger. I even half-expected her to react like this, hurt and distant and angry. But a part of me hoped we could talk it through. That she’d forgive me. That we had enough trust between us that we could work through anything.
My phone rings again, the only sound in the soundproof target range. I look at this place that holds so many memories for us. It’s become the place of our trysts, the place that belongs to just the two of us. The others rarely even come here anymore, since they know it’s sacred to us. In seconds, I take in everything that has meaning in here, unsure of what to say or how to respond.
“You should answer that, Mr. Master,” she says in that same cold, distant voice I don’t ever want to hear again. “It could be important.”
I yank the phone out of my pocket and see Joe’s name. “Yeah?” It isn’t his fault everything’s gone to shit, but I’m pissed that anyone’s got the nerve to interrupt me right now. My sun has disappeared, leaving me in bleak, cold darkness.
I put the phone on speaker so Violet hears.
“Boss, you gotta move. The Rossis leave this afternoon for their home in Tuscany and won’t be back for another month.”
I curse, gripping my phone so hard my fingers hurt. “When do they leave?”
“Two hours. Skylar’s waiting by the truck. She’s rigged up, and we’ve got you on surveillance. Anything they say or do will be recorded. Go now, and Henri will fill you in on what you need to know on the way.”
Violet nods. “Thanks, Joe. We’re on our way.”
The furious energy in me boils and simmers to a dangerous heat. Someone’s left a velvet-lined box of throwing knives, Violet’s weapon of choice, on a nearby table. I grab the nearest one, pull my arm back, and whip it at the target at the end of the range. Violet flinches when it sinks straight into the heart. She grabs a second one from the box and I half-expect her to throw it, too, but she slides it into to her ankle sheath. My girl loves her throwing knives.
My girl.
My woman.
My everything.
I don’t even remember the last time I cried but fuck if it doesn’t tempt me. Throwing the knife hasn’t helped at all.
A brisk wind kicks up when we step outside, flecks of snow and ice raining down. This time of year in Salem it’s rare for snow, but the occasional freezing rain isn’t out of the question. My instinct is to drape my arm around Violet to protect her from the cold, but the way she holds herself tells me that wouldn’t be welcome right now. She doesn’t want me anywhere near her, and I don’t fucking blame her at all.
Skylar waits for us.
We have a job to do. I gave her my word, and even if everything’s over between us—even if she wants to leave forever—I made her a promise, and I intend on keeping it.
CHAPTER THIRTY
Violet
I hate that I’m in this truck with Cain and Skylar, knowing that I have to leave. I hate that he’s told me all this now, right when we’re on the cusp of doing what I came here for. A part of me reasons that he didn’t tell me before now because he didn’t want to jeopardize this operation, but… I know better.
It kills me to know that everything I had here—the friendship, the family, the love of a man a woman could only dream of—is now gone.
I look out the window and see Romulus and Remus staring at me, their eyes hopeful that I’ll come home. They wait for me in the window when I leave and wag their little butts when I return. But this time… I’m not returning.
How could I? How could I trust anything at all after what Cain told me?
I’d had sneaking suspicions, but all this time figured it was only in my head. Someone was following me. Someone was trailing me. Back when we hunted for the man who abducted Skylar, he was after me, too, and I assumed that those feelings of being followed were only because of him, because I didn’t feel that way anymore after we apprehended him and the brother he worked with.