Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89925 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“She needed money. Your . . . Your father said he’d care for River.” Her words make no sense.
“She needed money for what? To run a fucking organization in Thailand?”
She shakes her head, her blue gaze landing on the man behind me. Hamish Amoretto. When I glance over my shoulder, he’s shaking his head. His fear is like a fucking aphrodisiac, and my cock hardens at the thought of making him watch me take his daughter, making him look into her eyes as she comes with my dick inside her. Shaking my head, I realize I’m as sick as Malcolm was.
“So, Malcolm did what?”
“Hamish promised her the money if she opened an import company for him in Asia. He offered her over ten million dollars to move there, never come back here, but leave her son with Malcolm. You have to understand, before you boys were born,” she murmurs. “Money was tight.”
I no longer know what to believe, but one thing is certain. Tonight I will be killing someone. And the person that will experience my wrath is behind me at the table, shaking his head.
“What a lovely story, Mom,” Dante laughs. When I glance at him, I wonder if he’s high. Perhaps he’s been snorting shit again to numb the memories. God knows I’ve done it far too many times in the past.
“Tell me something.” I meet my mother’s worried stare. “Did you ever love us? Was there ever an inkling of emotion for your sons?”
Her mouth falls open to respond, but no words come out, and I know what I have to do. This shit ends tonight. And it starts with the woman I don’t know. The stranger who I’m slowly squeezing the life out of.
Caia’s hand lands on my arm. Her wide eyes meet mine when I turn toward her. “Are you sure you want to do this?” she questions, looking out for my well-being when I should be the one caring for her. “There’s no going back.” Her warning is clear. Once I kill my own mother, I’ll never be able to forget or take it back.
“It’s because of her you’re here. It’s also because of her that Dante, River, and I lived through the horrific, fucked-up life we did,” I tell her. My choice has been made; she can see it in my eyes.
Caia nods. Releasing me from her grip, she steps back, allowing me space to do what I need to. I turn back to my mother. Dante is beside me, watching me lose control.
“Brother,” he murmurs beside me. “We can keep her in the cells.” He’s right. It’s an option, but I plan to burn this house down when this is over. There will no longer be any cells. There’ll be no Savage Mansion when I’m done.
I glance at Dante who seems to have come back down to earth from his rather flamboyant high.
“I promised you something a long time ago, brother,” I tell him. “I’ll get you out of this. There will no longer be a house, cells. There’ll no longer be a Savage Organization. They’re all dead.”
My mother’s hand grips my wrist, holding onto me as if I’m about to save her. But the only people I am saving are the people who’ve been there for me.
The grip I have on her neck tightens, and I watch as she gasps for air. Mumbled pleas of mercy are ignored as she claws at me, her body flailing, and I find myself smiling as my mother takes her last breath.
Her lips turn a shade of purple then slowly blue as I watch in awe. The colors make such a beautiful rainbow as her breaths are stolen. Whoever said death wasn’t beautiful?
CHAPTER THIRTY
CAIA
I can’t tear my gaze away from the man I love as he steals his mother’s life with a single hand. The veins in his forearm thick and angry, pulsing as they trail down toward his fingers, as if they’re offering more strength to finish the deed.
I should be afraid of him. He could easily kill me. He could simply turn to me and decide he’s had enough. But when Drake’s fingers finally unravel from his mother’s delicate neck and she tumbles to the ground, he turns to me with fire and affection dancing in those piercing blue orbs, and he doesn’t steal my life. Instead, he is the thief of my heart.
“Come here, sweet girl,” he calls to me, reaching for me with one hand, and the other hangs at his side as if it’s tired from the strain of squeezing every last heartbeat from the lifeless form on the floor.
I don’t deny him the affection he so clearly seeks. When I reach him, I mold myself into the crook of his arm. His warmth calms my erratic heartbeat. Everything has happened way too fast. I still have no idea why my sister is so in love with Dante, how my mother and father are sitting here, but all I focus on is one thing. The one thing I’ve wanted to do for so long — to kill my father while he looks into my eyes.