Total pages in book: 56
Estimated words: 52455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52455 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 262(@200wpm)___ 210(@250wpm)___ 175(@300wpm)
Victor lets me rest, leaning forward to murmur directions to Enzo.
I must have dozed off because when I open my eyes, the car is pulling up outside the building that houses Victor’s penthouse. The one he originally took me to.
The first time, he carried me in. This time, I walk in of my own volition after Victor helps me from the car.
It feels like a lifetime since I’ve been here. Stephanos is gone. My mother’s been avenged. The truth about my brother is out, and he’ll be punished. And I may have lost a brother, but I gained a lover. Victor brings a handful of made men with him, along with his own unique skills.
Ultimately, La Famiglia has won.
And I’ve claimed a victory of my own.
“Where’s the dungeon?” I ask Victor as we step into the elevator. I have a theory, but I want him to confirm it.
“In the basement.”
I knew it.
He hovers a long finger over the button for the lower floor before he presses the one to take us to the top.
He takes me to the bathroom and positions me in front of the sink. His big hands roam over me, checking for blood, bruises, and tender spots. I took a moment in the bathroom at Royal’s mansion to dust off the worst of the wood splinters and debris that coated my dress and hair from the explosion.
The worst of my wounds are carried over from my time in captivity—the letters carved above my heart. When Victor tackled me to protect me from the explosion, I crashed to the ground. The force broke the fragile skin, and the letters he carved were bleeding again.
I pull down the dress’s square neckline and push my sword necklace aside so Victor can remove the dirty bandage. He growls as he fusses over the marks.
“You’re the one who did this to me.” I roll my eyes at his muttered curses. “It’ll heal.” I stop him before he covers the cuts with another bandage. “Wait. Let me see something.”
I point to the letters carved into my chest. The V is the easiest letter to read. Next to it, in the same size script, is the letter R.
I studied them when Victor left me but didn’t understand. The V is obvious: V for Victor. But the second letter. . . “R? What’s your last name?”
“I have none,” he says. “Not anymore. I figured I could take yours.”
I drop my hand, my arm muscles suddenly too weak to hold it up. “Romano?”
“Or Regis. Your mother was a Regis, correct?”
“She was.”
“And here I am, part of the Regis family. If you and your cousin will have me.”
“He will accept you.” He will if I have any say in it.
“You saved me from him.” His touch is tender on my cheek.
“Yes.” I turn fully and rise to tiptoes to thread my arms around his broad shoulders. I pull him down until his lips brush mine and whisper, “If anyone is going to kill you, it’s going to be me.”
He straightens, lifting me off my feet as he claims my mouth. His kiss is ice and fire, and I savor the solid power of him, rubbing my swelling breasts against his chest. His dick jabs my thigh.
He swivels and sets me on the bathroom counter. I’m already spreading my legs. The dress he gave me was form-fitting but modest enough, with a hem that ends an inch above my knee. I wriggle, trying to pull it up, but it’s too tight and doesn’t budge. Until Victor helps by ripping it in half so it’s open to my navel.
“Yes,” I gasp and scoot forward to the edge of the counter. I’m not wearing underwear. He didn’t give me any earlier today, and after spending so long naked, a bra and panties would feel weird.
Victor’s already opened his pants. The head of his cock is red and angry, dripping pre-cum. He finds my sopping wet entrance and pushes in an inch. I’m squirming, trying to stretch to accommodate him when he digs his hand into my hair to hold me still.
“I will give you everything,” he promises. In one swift move, he pushes inside, spearing me as he wrenches my head back. Bombs explode in my brain. I cum right then, shaking in his grip. He watches me with his icy gaze.
“Krasiva. Mi kama.” He cups my bottom and lifts me so he can sink even deeper, filling the depths of me. My insides stretch around him, slowly accommodating his girth, but nothing can help me get used to his length. At this angle, pressed against him with gravity pulling me down, the head of his cock is knocking on my cervix.
I tear at his shirt collar, sending buttons flying as I rip the dress shirt open so I can fasten my mouth to his neck. I find the cut I made and suck on it, hard. His growl rolls through me, the delicious vibrations making me pulse around him.