Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
I dash forward, grabbing it and fumbling with the latch.
Gideon gave me back the cello.
Made me believe in myself.
Lies.
All lies.
Without hesitation or even thinking about what I’m doing, an ear-piercing scream tears through me, and my arm pulls back and slams down.
The cello bounces off the wall and crashes onto the floor. Shards of wood and strings fly in every direction.
The tears roll down my face, and I can’t stop them, no matter how much I want to. It feels like there’s a hurricane inside my chest, tearing through everything I am.
How could he do this to me? How could he make me fall in love with him?
He’s a monster.
He’s always been a monster.
And I’m the fool who fell in love with him.
There isn’t much time. It’s likely someone has already called Gideon. The window for escape is closing quickly, and I need to slip through it before it does.
All of this shit can stay. I just need to leave.
Thankfully, I’ve already done my recon on this place and know where the fence is broken. Without Gideon here to catch me, hopefully, I’ll be able to get away.
I try to be quiet. I tiptoe down the back hall stairs, making my way into the servant’s wing.
It’s a gamble, but one I need to take.
Down the hall and all the way to the back door, the closest exit point to the fence is where I head. If I can get out, I’ll get away.
I creep toward my salvation, and when the door is within reach, I turn the knob.
Nothing.
The door is locked.
My heart races, and my hands shake.
“Shit.”
What am I going to do?
The sound of footsteps makes me jump and spin around.
Fear wraps itself around me, depleting the oxygen I so desperately need.
My vision is blurry from the lack of lights, but as it adjusts, my breath leaves my body in a burst.
It’s not one of the guards.
It’s the quiet maid.
The one who warned me.
“I…he…”
She steps forward, and I step aside. I’m not sure what’s about to happen, but I pray they didn’t send her for me. My head lowers, and that’s when a shiny metal key glitters against the dark.
I blink and miss the whole part when she unlocks the door and steps aside.
“Go.”
I don’t need to be told twice…
47
GIDEON
I navigate through the large foyer and up the stairs leading to Sasha’s room.
The manor is shockingly quiet, the calm before the storm. My men know heads will roll over the breach in information.
When I received the call from Tony that Sasha overheard Sean talking about her brother’s death, I headed back. The problem is, hours later, she skipped dinner, and no one has spoken to her since she stormed off and headed to her old room.
Sasha was never supposed to know that I fired the shot that killed Roman, and when I fucking find Sean, I will gut him.
No one hurts Sasha.
The irony isn’t lost on me that my actions have brought her the most pain, but she’s mine.
Mine to hurt.
Mine to love.
Mine.
Adrenaline surges through me as I stride down the hall and stand outside her door.
Not bothering with formalities, I swing the door open, ready to deal with the aftermath of Sasha’s eavesdropping.
“Firefly—” I stride into the room, my words falling away as I take in the destruction.
Not only is Sasha not here, but it looks like a tornado has torn through the place.
My heart pumps wildly in my chest, red-hot anger filling my veins.
It’s like a storm building inside me, preparing to break. I feel it coursing through my veins like wildfire, making my heart race and my head spin. I want to scream and lash out at anyone who gets in my way.
The room is in complete disarray.
Clothes are thrown all over the place, but that’s not what has my ears ringing. What sets me on edge is the cello, or what used to be her cello.
Now it’s broken, smashed to pieces, the wood splintered and the strings frayed. The one thing in this world that she loved, and because of my actions, it’s destroyed.
“Fuck!”
I pick up the cello, its neck cracked like a brittle twig. It slips from my grasp, crashing to the floor.
It’s heartbreaking to see such beauty destroyed, not because of the craftsmanship used to make it but because of what it implies. This piece of wood is an extension of Sasha, and she’s broken.
I broke her.
From where the other piece of the cello lies, I catch the flash of something white inside the body of the instrument, a white slip of paper fluttering out.
“What is that?” I speak to myself in the empty room.
For a long-drawn-out moment, I stare at it, then reach out and grasp it in my hand.
The first thing I notice is that the piece of paper has a sticky substance on it. Leftover adhesive from whoever attached it?