Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85089 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
To this killer.
“I can see how you might be struggling.”
“How are all those clothes in my size, by the way?”
“Roza did some research. Plus I have a very good eye.”
“You know my size from looking at me?”
“More or less. Was I wrong?”
I tensed my jaw. “No. You were right. Why do you even have all that stuff? It’s like you expected me to come here at some point.”
He gave me a frustrated look, lips curled slightly. “Please, save your questions for the end.”
“This isn’t some lecture.”
“I know that, but I have something more important to talk to you about.”
“More important than the very creepy closet of clothes? And the fact that you just admitted to sizing me up? I’m not sure if I should be flattered or offended.”
“Flattered. I liked what I saw.”
My cheeks pinked immediately. A solid five. Not too bad.
“Alright fine. What od you want to ask me?”
He put his fork down and leaned toward me as I held my cup of coffee up like a shield.
“We need to talk about your family.”
I went very, very still.
My family.
I hadn’t mentioned my family. I don’t think about my family. I don’t talk about them.
I ran away from my family three years ago after the incident and I have no interest in going back.
“What about it?” I asked, doing my best to steady my voice, but the tremble was there.
“Why didn’t you tell me your father is a high ranking member of the MacKenna Family?”
I put my coffee cup down and a little sloshed over the side. I shoved my chair back and stood. “I should leave.”
“Cassie. Sit down.”
“No,” I said, heart suddenly racing. How the hell did he know that? What else did he know about me? Does he know what happened, what I did? My hands shook violently and I wrung them together and tried to hide the fact that I was losing it, completely and totally melting down.
I didn’t talk about the MacKenna Family.
I hated the MacKenna Family.
And I especially hated my father.
Damaged goods. You aren’t worth much to be now. Get yourself together.
The first words I heard on the day I was released from the hospital three years ago.
God, I hated him so much.
“Cassie.” My name was like a velvet whip on his tongue. Pleasure and pain. “Sit down. Don’t make me sat it again.”
“Or what? I’m not your employee. You don’t get to order me around.”
“No, maybe not. But if you don’t sit, I will come over there and punish you, and I promise the punishment will be both painful and confusing.”
“Painful and confusing?” I stared at him, my mouth hanging open. “What the hell does that mean?”
“It means that I’ll spank your ass until it’s as pink as your cheeks. And if that doesn’t work, I’ll tie you to your bed and tease every inch of your skin until you’re dripping wet and begging for an orgasm, but I promise you, my kukolka, I will not give you that release.”
He spoke the words in a steady monotone, like he was lecturing a classroom full of students. I gaped at him, body tingling, the heat between my legs pooling in a warm, wet frenzy. I felt my nipples stiffen—what the hell was wrong with me?—and I ran my tongue along my lower lip.
Spank my ass pink. Tie me up and torture me.
Maybe this man really was a psychopath.
Slowly, I lowered myself onto the chair.
Because I believed him. Even if it was crazy to threaten me with a spanking like I was some little girl, the grim and deadly serious glint in his eye suggested I shouldn’t press him.
That maybe he’d done it before and he’d do it again.
That maybe he was right and I really would like it.
But what scared me the most was how badly I wanted to find out.
“I’m not your kukolka, whatever that means. I’m not your anything. You’re just some guy that’s helping me out. Even if you are creepy and you have a closet full of clothes just waiting for me in your underground bunker. Is this where you take all your victims for their dismemberment? I bet you—“
“Cassie.” His voice was ice. “You’re doing it again.”
I stopped talking and glared at him.
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Maybe I approached this the wrong way. If so, I apologize. But you don’t understand what’s happening. The fact that you’re related to the MacKenna Family matters, and I need to understand exactly how close you are with them.”
I chewed on that for a moment. I knew Roman was involved with the mafias, which meant he had dealings with the MacKennnas. I didn’t know how important my father was to the Family, but I did know that he’d been working his way up in the ranks, at least until the time I ran away. Since then, I had no clue, had no connection, had no dealings.