Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 80303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80303 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
“The answers you should be seeking don’t have anything to do with that situation. That’s been handled. Didn’t I tell you it would be?”
I crossed my arms and huffed out a breath. “So, I should just take you at your word?”
“Yes,” he replied curtly. “I know you don’t and until you learn to trust me, I’ll let my actions prove what my words can’t.”
Trust him? He’d seriously lost his mind.
“Don’t you think there are more serious matters for us to discuss than the piece of shit I put a bullet in?” he demanded.
I wanted to get angry on Diego’s behalf but just like when I saw his lifeless eyes fixed on my ceiling, the typically expected emotion was missing.
It had always been missing.
And yet again, he had a valid point.
There were many more important things to talk about. The only sorrow I felt concerning Diego was reserved for his wife and any children they might have.
“Are you going to tell me why you’re claiming me as fiancé?”
“I thought we’d already covered that.”
“I think I would remember that conversation.”
“You’re mine, Rhiannon. It’s as simple as that.”
He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel and slowed down as he took the next exit. The SUVs were still right behind us, keeping up even when he turned into a speed demon.
“But why is that Judas? Is it because of my family?”
I could see him consider the question before answering. “I admit, your father is a powerful man, but--.”
“Since when? You’ve always said he was weak.”
A derisive snort filled the cabin of the sports car. “I’m not talking about Marcus. That man doesn’t even deserve to be labeled as a pussy. I meant your birth father, the man who lost you.”
“I…” Trailing off, I furrowed my brows and looked away from him. Of course, Judas knew who my actual dad was. He’d said my whole damn name just this morning—one I’d never heard before in my life. He seemed to know everything I didn’t just as he’d alluded on his jet. I couldn’t help but feel hurt and pissed off about it. “Is keeping me in the dark fun for you?”
“Being in the darkness together is what’s fun for me. I don’t want you to be there alone.”
It was an oddly sweet sentiment that sounded far too genuine.
Judas had always been adept at placing me on a coaster of emotional whiplash. Thus far he hadn’t gone too cold yet but that didn’t prevent my brain from being triggered.
I was remembering so much of our youth being around him again. I didn’t want these fucking memories. I didn’t want all my pain and anger to rise back to the surface and taint every breath I drew.
“You wanna marry me and then play house in your giant mansion, Judas. Have three kids and get a Labradoodle?”
“I had the house designed with you at the forefront of my mind. I thought you’d notice. If you don’t like it, we can bulldoze everything and start over. If I’m lucky you’ll give me three kids, but I’d be happy with just one. My only objection is the dog. We already have two.”
What the entire hell?
I gaped at him in disbelief for a few seconds before composing myself.
Judas was highly intelligent, there was no way he didn’t realize I was being bitterly sarcastic. He just didn’t give a damn. He’d replied with a seriousness laced in his words. They needled at my skin, tugging at something that shouldn’t have existed any longer.
I ignored all of it and clung to the last bit of argument he had no rebuttal against. “Then maybe you should start telling me what’s really going on and explain why you turned me into a pawn.”
His grip tightened on the steering wheel, the only indication I’d hit a nerve.
“You aren’t a pawn, Rhiannon. You’re my queen. Sooner than later, you’ll learn exactly what that means.” He coasted through a high-class neighborhood before turning off onto a private road. After approximately five or six minutes, he whipped the Bugatti onto a hidden drive and passed through a pair of open gates.
Much like his place only in plain sight, a pair of gunmen stood on either side of the two brick pillars they connected to, their profiles flashing by in my peripheral.
Our one-sided argument instantly took a backseat to the concerns I had for our destination. Tall trees stood proudly beside the long tarmac path, blocking out the brightness of the sun.
“Do you have shooters? I think I saw one.” I asked to distract from the nerves beginning to accumulate in my stomach.
“We have guards, yes.”
I ground my teeth at his correction but didn’t comment. The stunning sandstone that suddenly loomed ahead of us captured my full attention. Judas’ home was perfectly defined as a mansion. This house screamed estate. It didn’t look like the kind of place gunmen would be protecting.