Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
He was the one to pull back. She stood trembling, shocked that she’d forgotten where they were. What had happened. He’d had the ability to take that away for her. For that alone she would have married him. She couldn’t speak, so she just nodded her assent.
“One more thing before you make your decision. For the sake of full disclosure. I like to fuck. I fuck hard, and I’m rough. You’re a tiny little thing. I’m not. You marry me, you come to me knowing what you’re getting into. I’ll take care of you, because you’ll be mine, but we aren’t going to have separate bedrooms. We marry, it’s going to be damn fuckin’ real.”
Ambrie pressed her fingers to her lips to keep him from seeing that they were trembling. She doubted that she was doing a very good job. She had the feeling he saw everything. “I get it,” she acknowledged. “You’re giving up your freedom and you want something in return. If you want sex in our marriage, then we’re exclusive. I’m not going to worry about getting some disease, and I’m not going to be disrespected in my own home. You be certain this is your price, because I’m not nearly as sweet as I apparently look. You cheat on me, and I won’t go to a divorce lawyer. When you’re sound asleep, I’ll cut your throat.” She kept her eyes on his so he would see she meant what she said. “So if you’re a man who likes variety, you’d better negotiate another deal.”
Another man intervened. “Make it fast, Master. We don’t have time for much more negotiations. I get it this is a lifetime thing here, but there’re a lot of dead bodies, and we don’t want the cops coming around. Not our turf.”
“I don’t want that asshole that was going to help force my obviously sweet little princess into marriage to marry us, Czar. He can be a witness. Where’s Preacher?” Master asked. He held out his hand to Ambrie.
Ambrielle put her hand in his, wondering if she’d completely lost her mind. The drug was definitely wearing off, and her body wouldn’t stop with the tremors. No matter what, she couldn’t control the way she shivered, and she didn’t want Master to think she was afraid of marrying him. It was her idea. Her choice. If anything, she was forcing him, not the other way around.
“Preacher, just get them married,” Czar snapped. “The rest of you, get gone now. We’re out of time. Code, make it legal and make certain Thompson’s people don’t try to pull a fast one.”
Master casually wrapped his arm around Ambrielle’s head, covering her ears and forcing her face into his rib cage. The sounds of the two gunshots were loud, one almost on top of the other, and then he was turning her body to face the front of the chapel. She heard the thump of a body hitting the floor, and her stomach lurched. That had to be the original preacher.
“Why did you kill him?” she whispered against his vest. She was gripping his vest with both hands in order to stand up, so shaky she was afraid her legs were going to give out.
“He went for a gun. Who would have thought he had one? And why would he try it? Even with everyone leaving, he still couldn’t have thought he’d make it out of here alive,” Master said.
“And Dobbs?”
“He helped kill your parents. Princess, you’re shaking like a leaf. I’m serious. You don’t have to do this. I’ll take care of Thompson, Gleb, Denis and anyone else on your hit list. Just point me in the right direction. You don’t have to marry me.”
The man they called Preacher had seriously curly hair. She let her gaze fixate on that while Master slid his arms around her waist to hold her up. She stood in her bloodstained wedding gown, leaning against him, feeling the guns, knives and ammunition against her back. It was a hell of a way to get married, especially when her father had been murdered and couldn’t walk her down the aisle, and her mother never had the chance to help her pick out a wedding gown.
She was crying. She despised that she was crying while she said her vows. She knew Kir “Master” Vasiliev, her new husband, would think she was crying because she was marrying him. It was just that everything was beginning to sink in and she was crashing.
Her parents were really dead. She couldn’t bring them back no matter how many men she killed. She was marrying a man she didn’t know, the only man she’d ever really had any chemistry with, and he was some kind of hit man who had spent most of his life in prison for crimes she didn’t want to know about. She’d traded her life for revenge, and she’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. There was something seriously wrong with her.