Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 56462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56462 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 282(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
I don’t even bother to make my way into the massive kitchen, instead, I cross right to the foyer and hurry to the front door, only as I grab it and start to twist, I come up short. The fucker is locked.
“Shit.”
Panic begins to rise in my chest, and I hastily whip around, my gaze jumping around the extraordinary home, searching for a way out. There are windows everywhere, and as I race around the house, I realize that every single one of them has been locked as well.
What kind of psychopath locks every single window? Everyone knows that you always leave one open for those days you lock yourself out of your house and you’ve forgotten where you hid the spare key. Or is that just a me thing?
After a thorough check of the house, I realize there isn’t a single way out, and I start to get fidgety, not enjoying this one bit. How the hell am I supposed to stage my grand escape when I can’t even get through the door? Damn it. If this was a horror movie, I’d be the first one killed, and what’s worse, I’d probably insist that my would-be murderer fuck me up against the wall first and make me a replica of his dick for me to ride until I get to see him again.
Figuring my only hope now is to escape through a broken window, I go in search of something I can use to smash the glass, but all I come up with is the armchair in the living room. I don’t exactly have much of a plan after that. Nick mentioned that there are a bunch of helpers here, and I’m assuming his parents too, who I really hope are nice people and would be able to help me. If I find them, perhaps I’m one step closer to finding my way back home.
Taking the armchair, I test its weight, seeing just how far I might be able to throw it, but I pause when I hear the front door unlocking.
The door opens with speed, not allowing me a chance to even run and hide, and within seconds, Nick’s dark gaze is locked on mine.
“Ahh fuck,” he mutters, cringing as he eyes the chair above my head. “I was hoping you’d still be out cold.”
What in the actual fuck is wrong with this guy?
I can’t respond. Is he seriously that insane?
Nick creeps toward me, and seeing the way I stare back at him like a deer in headlights, he holds his hands out as if to try and soothe me and ensure he means no harm. But fuck, I’ve fallen for his bullshit before.
As he takes another step, my fight-or-flight instincts kick in, and I finally find my voice. “Don’t come any closer,” I snap, tightening my hold on the armchair, positive that at some point it will probably throw me off balance.
“Woah, baby,” he says. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you. Put the chair down.”
“Are you fucking insane?”
He shrugs his shoulders as if he’s actually considering it. “I’ve never been tested, but . . .”
He lets his comment fall away, leaving me gaping at him. “What the fuck is going on, Nick? Where the hell am I?”
“This is my home,” he says, waving his hands around this massive place.
“Gee, thanks, asshole,” I snap, adjusting my stance every time he inches toward me. “I’d figured that much out when I woke up in a fucking snow globe. I meant where am I? Where the hell have you brought me?”
He cringes again, those dark eyes that have haunted every single one of my dreams suddenly the object of my future nightmares. “We’re in the North Pole, Mila,” he explains. “I simply gave you what you wished for.”
“What?” I demand, shaking my head as I finally put the chair down. “No, this isn’t—”
“You wished to be mine,” he says. “You wished to be with me every day of the rest of our lives. To belong to only me. I gave you what you asked for, Mila. You wanted this, and now you have it. You’re mine.”
I back up a few steps, my back only inches from hitting the living room window. “No. That’s not what I meant,” I say, my heart pounding so hard in my chest, terrified of what I’ve done—of what he’s done. “You knocked me out and stole me away. How the hell could you possibly think that’s what I wanted?”
“I told you that you didn’t understand what you were asking for, what a life with me would mean, but you said you didn’t care. You said anything is better than the life you had in New York without me.”
I shake my head as he continues creeping toward me. “I . . . I didn’t realize—”