Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91082 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 455(@200wpm)___ 364(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
“What are you doing?” I screeched.
He strode toward the edge with no signs of stopping. For a split second, I believed he was going to launch me over the side until we reached an access ladder I hadn’t noticed before. “What the fuck were you doing up here?” he growled, descending down the side of the building swiftly, as if he didn’t have an adult female hanging over his back. “I told you to go straight home.”
“He’s your brother.”
Upside down, I spotted Diego’s Mercedes. We were at the back gate. The fire roared on all sides but hadn’t reached the lot yet. On the ground, Cristiano set me on my feet and scanned my legs and dress. In the cold light of breaking dawn, he seared me with a different kind of heat than he had the night before. He didn’t seem to like what he saw anymore. “Get on the horse,” he said.
Near the open gate, a man on a horse held the reins of a rearing black stallion. I wasn’t going anywhere without Diego. I turned to run around front where the semis were parked, but Cristiano snatched my elbow, pulled me back, and hoisted me up. I struggled, trying to kick him as he carried me toward the exit. He put a hand to the horse’s nose, and when it’d calmed, Cristiano dropped me on its back.
“You can’t do this,” I said, my throat thick. “We can’t leave Diego here.”
He grabbed the horn and butt of the saddle, trapping me. “Your misguided loyalty is going to get you killed, but not today.” He pulled himself up, took the reins in one hand, and wrapped an arm around my waist to secure my back to his front. “Hold on,” he said and spurred the horse with a “Hyah!”
The stallion jerked into motion, and we exited into the desert. I squirmed against Cristiano, fighting to look back. The other rider took off in the opposite direction to catch up with a group of men on horses. I braced myself for a bone-rattling explosion, and another irrevocable shift in my life. “He’s going to die,” I said.
“Cockroaches survive fire. Butterflies, on the other hand . . .” He tightened his hold on me. “They go up in smoke. You’ll see your Romeo again, I guarantee it.”
“Let me go.” My imagination jumped ahead to Diego’s funeral. The only black dress I had was the one on my body. The last one I’d seen him in. A scrap of fabric. I’d have to buy one. Or dye something black. Another dress for another funeral . . .
“Please.” My voice cracked, but I clawed at the solid bar of his forearm, trying to free myself, prepared to fall off if I had to. I didn’t expect him to release me, so when he did, I braced to hit the ground. He grabbed me again, capturing my upper arms and pinning them to my sides. “I can’t leave Diego there.”
“You’re not,” he said. “I’m forcing you away.”
“Take me back.”
“Have you learned nothing from your mother’s death?” Cristiano held me in a grip so tight, his fingertips dug into my bicep. “If you’re drawn to this life, fine—but you can’t be so fucking reckless.”
My vocal cords protested, but I continued to fight. “I’m not drawn to it. I want no part of this.”
“You’re lying to yourself, but if you want me to make that true, say the word. I’ll put the fear of God into you and send you sprinting back to California for good.” He put his mouth to my ear. “I thought I’d scared you straight years ago, but I’m happy to try again.”
In that moment, any thoughts of Diego vanished. I remembered who I was with—the devil himself. “Where are you taking me?” I asked, twisting my torso against him.
Riding one-handed, he slid his coarse palm higher up my bare shoulder. “I suppose I could take you anywhere, couldn’t I? Imagine if I showed up at the gates of hell with an angel like you.”
Where young women were trapped and used, bought and sold. Dread spread through my body to my toes and fingers. There were worse things than death in this world, and Cristiano wanted to teach me a lesson. My heart hammered as his suit pants scraped my bare outer thighs. “But—why w-would you . . . you can’t—”
“Mmm, there it is, the fear,” he said as I struggled to beat back my panic. “Don’t worry. You get used to the underworld’s fire.” He put his scratchy cheek to mine. “And I suppose, in exchange, I could be persuaded to give heaven a try.”
We’d left the warehouse behind and were galloping along the edge of town, toward the thick of trees that surrounded the compound. Even when I recognized we were on our way home, my shivering didn’t subside. The power in Cristiano’s every touch, in his words, reminded me that despite the time that had passed, and despite the fact that I was no longer a child—I still held no chance against him. His grip on me never relented. He was in control of my fate.