Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58604 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Princess, you finally came to your senses.” There’s a grin on his lips, his eyes devouring me as if he can see beneath my clothes.
A deadly calm settles in my chest. “You know what? I think you’re right. I have come to my senses.” I notice someone else enter the room behind him, a man looking well out of his depth. Sweat beads at his hairline, his face is pale, and he wears a sweater over his shirt and dress pants. Ty’s VP, Carver, pushes him into the room and locks the door with us inside.
“Who is that?” I jerk my chin, nerves clutching at my stomach muscles.
“This is one of those marriage people.” Tyler waves a hand, jutting out his bottom lip.
“Officiant,” the man murmurs, clasping his hands in front of him.
“Yeah, that.” Tyler waves a hand in the air, jabbing a finger at the man. “Not how we planned it, but the end goal is the same, right?” He’s so animated with his gestures, I narrow my gaze on him. He’s high.
“I’m not marrying you,” I state. My eyes dart to the door Carver locked.
“You are, Princess. You’ve played detective long enough.” He moves closer, his eyes narrowing on the bruise on my jaw. He doesn’t say anything because he no doubt thinks it’s the one he put there.
“Come here,” he demands, pointing to the spot in front of him.
I can’t believe I’ve been choosing darkness over light this whole time. I’ve been so fucking blind. Callan’s image forces its way into my head. This entire time, he’s been out there waiting for me, and I wasted so many years being treated like shit by this asshole.
“I’m not marrying you, Tyler.”
“I can’t marry you if she declines,” the guy says, his voice wobbling. How the hell did they find this guy?
“You’ll do as you’re told or I’ll carve your eyes out and send them to your mother. I’m assuming you don’t have a wife.” Carver snorts. The guy whimpers, turning ghost white.
“Princess, you’re testing my patience,” Tyler says, pushing his fingers into his temples.
“I don’t love you,” I spit out. The guy squeaks, Carver gripping his forearm.
Tyler stalks me across the room, his teeth gritted and fists clenched. I shouldn’t have come back. I didn’t even bring my gun. Foolish girl. His hand wraps around my throat, drawing my body to his, looking down on me with so much rage that he doesn’t seem human.
“I fucking own you. You’re mine. And I’d rather put you in the ground than have you walking around without my last name.” A rattle shudders through my bones at his cold, unforgiving cruelty.
“You want me to have my dad’s killers name?” I choke out, my hands smacking at his arms. He releases me as if I scalded him.
“What the fuck did you say?”
“You heard me.” I shove at his chest and slap his face.
A roar climbs through him and unleashes at me. “Out,” he barks to Carver, jerking his chin to the door.
Without question, Carver unlocks the door and pushes the guy through it, following behind him.
“I know your dad was a rat,” I blurt out. The sting as his hand connects with my face brings tears to my eyes. He’s immediately in my space, cupping my bruised jaw, gripping a fistful of my hair in his other palm.
“I fucking love you. Why the fuck are you doing this to me—to us?” he yells, spittle spraying over my face. “I have never loved anyone or anything but you in this life, and you betray me like this?”
“How am I betraying you?” I cry out.
“You let those King bastards get in your head and feed you bullshit, Princess. You let them turn you against your own club—against me.” He releases my hair and slams a hand against his chest.
Grief grips my throat. “Did you kill my dad?”
“What?” He pushes me away and paces, rubbing at his brow. “Who told you that shit?”
“It doesn’t matter. Just give me the damn truth.”
“You want the truth?” He’s back in my space, a hand in my hair, yanking my head back. “Your dad killed mine.”
No. He wouldn’t. He would if he knew about him being a rat. Then Tyler killed him. Blood paid in blood. “Despite all that, I took care of you, loved you and Harley. I even took care of your mom—and this is how you repay me!”
“I don’t owe you shit,” I snap, smacking my fists into his shoulder. I may as well be a bunny rabbit hitting him with my tail. He doesn’t flinch, doesn’t move, doesn’t release me.
“You’re going to do as you’re told. We’re going to bring that officiant back in here and do what should have been done ages ago. Everything else, we can get past.”
“No!” I holler.
“You’re a fucking traitor,” he bites. “You think you’re going to walk out of here? Everyone is going to know. They’ll all take turns punishing you until you’re nothing more than a whimpering cum slut begging for my mercy.”