Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82068 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I stiffen as he pushes away from the doorframe and begins slowly prowling my way. With each step toward me, my heart speeds up until it’s tripping over itself. He makes me nervous, but I can’t tell if it’s in a good way or a bad way. I’d like to think I’m naturally afraid of him. The alternative, that I like when he’s near, is too shameful to even think about.
My phone buzzes and though I want to see what his brothers said, I don’t dare take my eyes off Caius as he nears.
“What were you looking for?” he asks, a hint of irritation in his tone.
“Doesn’t matter. I didn’t find it.”
He doesn’t relax. Every muscle in his body is tense, as though he’s poised to strike like a venomous snake. I pull the blanket tighter around me, unable to shake the chill despite the roaring fire beside me.
“You think you found something.” He unfolds the paper and glances briefly at me. “What do you think you found?”
Calista.
I found the word “Calista” on his notepad while snooping in his office and left the evidence tucked away in a book for him to find. He knows this. We both do.
Rather than stating the obvious, I shrug. “Nothing that makes sense.” I pause and give him a saccharine-sweet smile. “Yet.”
He scoffs and tosses the paper into the fireplace. Tension bleeds from him as he watches it burn. I can’t help but also witness the destruction of it.
“Where’s Megan? She’s a project just like you were, huh?”
His head tilts to the side and his eyes turn impossibly darker. “I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about, little girl.”
Irritation has me flinging off the blanket and rising to my feet. As soon as I catch a whiff of his delicious cologne, I mentally berate myself for inhaling it. Standing so close to him is a mistake. My body warms, remembering his expert touch from earlier.
Or maybe it’s the fire that has me breaking into a sweat.
“I really don’t feel like talking to you,” I grit out, turning to leave. “All I get is more and more questions. Never any answers. I’d rather go upstairs and put puzzles together. Alone.”
At least the puzzles play by the rules.
Those make sense.
I can master those easily.
He grabs hold of my bicep, stopping me. Then he drags me toward the fire until my back is nearly pressed against the mantle. Heat burns at my calves through my pajama pants.
The fingers from his other hand snag my chin, biting into the flesh along my jaw. I suppress a yelp as he angles my head up so he can glower deep into my soul.
“Let go of me,” I hiss, squirming in his hold. “The fire is hot and I’m practically on top of it.”
He steps even closer to me. When I automatically start to retreat, he tightens his grip on both my face and bicep, making it impossible for me to move without pain. “Whatever you think you know, you don’t.”
Calista.
He can gaslight me all he wants, but I won’t forget it. It’s just another piece of this elaborate puzzle I’m trying to put together.
“Fine,” I snap back. “Now will you leave me alone?”
The heat against the back of my legs soon becomes nearly unbearable. I find myself leaning into him rather than running away, my legs tangling with his.
His head dips lower until the tip of his nose brushes against mine. A thrill shoots down my spine as I briefly entertain the thought of a kiss. I quickly shove that line of thinking into a mental box where it belongs.
“What was written on that note,” he rumbles, voice barely a growled whisper, “can never be uttered aloud. Ever. Are we clear?”
Ahh, so Calista is important. A secret meant to be kept quiet. It’s a flicker of vulnerability in an otherwise stone-cold glacier of a man before me.
I’m definitely not going to forget it now.
“Crystal clear,” I grit out.
He rubs his nose along mine, and I shiver despite the fiery heat that feels as though my pajama pants are about to catch fire. “If you ever so much as think of mentioning it, I’ll take great pleasure in putting a bullet through your pretty little skull.”
His suddenly soft but violent words have me recoiling from him.
Over a freaking word?
What a psychopath.
“Y-You can’t kill me,” I argue, voice shaky with terror despite the indignation rising up inside me. “My dad. He’s a problem, remember? You can’t just erase me like you did Megan.”
He abruptly releases me and steps back, a malevolent energy rippling from him. “I can and will do anything to prevent you from uttering that name.” A flash of anxiety-riddled fury gleams in his eyes. “I’ll pull the trigger before the second syllable comes out.”
Using his hand with the thumb up and finger pointed as an imaginary gun, he aims it at my face and pretends to shoot. “Bang.”