Redeemed Royal (Duke of Tudor #3) Read Online Amarie Avant

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary Tags Authors: Series: Duke of Tudor Series by Amarie Avant
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Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63046 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 315(@200wpm)___ 252(@250wpm)___ 210(@300wpm)
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My body goes numb as she strokes my arm. “I would be glad to work for you, do anything for you.”

Ah, as I guessed, she would rather service me than Al Rafi.

“We will discuss the terms once you’ve gotten me safely into the sheikh’s lair.” I lift my hand from the stick shift, and my arm away from her touch, to the steering wheel.

As another hour passes, Yegane prattles on about her history of cooking for Al Rafi’s concubines and how all of them were jealous of her. As she speaks, my gander continuously scans the dark shadows of cactus cutting through the soft, sandy desert terrain.

“There!” Yegane excitedly points at a fragment of light. The yellow glow is much different from the bright, ultra-white stars.

A bloke’s having himself a cigarette.

“One of the guards comes up for a smoke,” she shares. “The first time we arrived, it took so long to find the hideout that Al Rafi had the men with me murdered. After that, a guard would come up.”

I ease the SUV off the road, measuring that the hideout is approximately two kilometers out.

Yegane continues, “The last time they went into hiding, the accommodations were much better. Tavar took Al Rafi’s bunker that was paved in gold. I swear, it was at least a mile long. That was after they were discussing business, and it failed . . .”

Hmmm, sounds a lot like the botched marriage proposal for Noor.

In no time, I’ve pulled parallel to a bloke in a suit. With the tinted windows, his flashlight can’t illuminate the interior.

He stops at the back door, apparently assuming two guards are inside, and the lovely cook is seated there.

I press the unlock button. The second the bloke’s beefy head pops inside, I’ve claimed his life. The soft poof of the silenced bullet enters the spot between his shocked eyes. Dead, he slumps in the seat.

“Quietly,” I growl to Yegane.

We slip out of the front seats, hardly closing the doors behind us.

A hatch is opened, which allows a familiar voice to float over.

“Grrr! Where’s your little slut puppy, Father?” Noor seethes. “How much more of this must I endure?”

“Once the Sheikh of Tavar—”

“Is this truly about the Tavar? You have your appetites whetted constantly. I’m beginning to believe you’ve grown tired of your many wives!”

“I had a new wife in my grasp.” I hear Al Rafi snarl about Luxury.

If Yegane’s assessment is correct, the entire area below is enclosed with only this one entrance.

“Stay,” I order, although I’ve pocketed the keys, so she may run off all she’d like.

I pull the pin from a stun grenade and drop it into the room, looking away from the flash-bang.

After a couple of seconds, I hustle down the steps where a few men, eyes closed in anguish, plug their fingertips into their ears.

In seconds, I’ve shot five of Al Rafi’s guards, lifted a temporarily disoriented Noor from the hatch, and then struggled to do the same with her obese father.

As they clamor on the ground, punishingly soft sand flicks in their eyes. The two of them curse the existence of the wanka they’re blind to.

I settle on the hood of the SUV to watch.

“Bravo, Vic,” I mutter to myself. At this point, I should feel some version of relief. For one, I’ve apprehended the two arseholes who harmed the single most important person to me. Two, I’ve contemplated torturing them for forty-two bloody days.

Now I can unleash all the dark thoughts I’ve had, and I can’t see a few inches in front of me.

I turn on the floodlights, and they wash over the place. I sit on the hood, waiting for solace, but I’m haunted by the girl blessed with cinnamon freckles.

All I see is Luxury Whitson until Yegane charges the sheikh. Her foot slams into his abdomen. “That’s what you get, you fat pig.”

“Yegane!” I call to her, unhooking the silencer from my handgun.

Just as she looks up, I shoot her in the forehead.

At the sound, father and daughter tremble to attention. I jump from the bumper of the SUV, retrieving a hammer from the trunk of the car.

As the sheikh struggles to stand, I slam the head into his legs. From the corner of my eye, Noor starts to rise.

“Help,” she screeches.

I lift the hammer in wild, passionate movements, breaking Al Rafi’s limbs, and relishing in the crunch of bone. After wiping the sweat from my brow, I rise and look to where Noor struggles to run up a slope approximately twenty yards away.

All the muscles in my upper body contract when the hammer snakes out, tumbling toward her at a swift rate. Blood arcs into the air as the steel claw cuts into the flesh at her back.

Noor sinks onto her knees, then the rest of her nosedives into the sand.

“You made me out to be a liar, Noor.” I stroll toward her. “Tsk, in more ways than one. I was a gentleman. I gave Yegane my word that she’d survive.”


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