Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 61692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 61692 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 308(@200wpm)___ 247(@250wpm)___ 206(@300wpm)
Suddenly, the door flies open and I meet the luminous green eyes of Cristiano Russo. “You look beautiful in my bedroom. I was hoping they’d bound you to my bed. I’m sure seeing you on those black satin sheets would have been my ultimate fantasy come true.” He smirks, stalking toward me. My body reacts, and a shudder wracks through me.
“Why are you doing this?”
“You don’t know? Did Daddy not tell you how he tried to steal my fortune?” he questions hotly. The anger in his gaze tells me I don’t know a thing about my father. “Oh, bella, so innocent and sweet. You were my first choice in payment. I’m guessing your boyfriend didn’t tell you?” When my gaze darts to him in shock and surprise, he chuckles darkly. “Well, it seems Franco doesn’t trust you enough to tell you the whole truth.”
Confusion swirls, anger heats my blood, and my stomach rolls with a sick feeling that I can’t squash down. He turns to me then. Stalking toward me, he leans in and trails my cheek with his lips. His tongue darts out and flicks over my mouth.
“Mio caro, you do taste like heaven. You see, bella, your father tried to steal my money. And then your boyfriend just walked in and took it all for himself. This is why I’m taking what matters most to him.”
“I don’t matter to him.” My retort is met with a heated glare.
“You fucking matter. He’s in love with you,” he bites back, his hand slamming against my cheek. The chair flings over and I find myself on the floor. The metallic taste of blood in my mouth has me retching. “After all he’s taken from me, he wants more, every fucking time.” He growls and his foot finds my ribs, slamming the breath from my lungs, and tears burn my eyes.
The cough and splutter that falls from my lips is enough fuel to earn me one more shove. Then his fists are in my hair, tugging me up. Pulling a blade from his holster, he slices the ropes that bind my legs but leaves my hands tied. He tugs me back, and the sleek silver pops the buttons on the blouse I was wearing and when it falls open I’m met with a heated stare.
“No wonder Franco is so invested in you. Look at those beautiful tits.” He reaches out, his index finger running along my jaw, down my collarbone, and over my chest and cleavage. “I bet those beautiful rosy nipples taste as sweet as your skin. And does your cunt taste like strawberries, bella?”
“Fuck you.” My retort shocks me and him. He rears back. Green eyes pin me with pure venom. I’ve never seen rage so undiluted before.
“I wish you would. You mistake me for a bad man, Raina. But I don’t take what doesn’t belong to me. I also don’t force a woman to accept my dick unless she’s begging for it.”
“I’ll never beg.”
That has him laughing, a full, throaty chuckle. “Oh, I knew you’d say that. Even if my dick never touches your sweet lips, I’ll know that one day you’ll beg me. It might not be today, and it might not be in the next month or two, but there will come a time when you’ll ask for my lenience, for mercy. Remember this life you’ve chosen to walk along isn’t easy. There isn’t good or bad. We’re all one and the same.”
He’s right. Franco isn’t good, and he isn’t bad. Neither am I. Lifting my gaze, I meet Cristiano’s and nod. I agree. A smile cracks his handsome face and I can’t help but wonder what pain he suffered to be so volatile. He releases his hold on me and I consider running but find myself intrigued by this man.
“You know, sometimes my father used to tell me why people are evil.”
He stops and regards me. As if waiting for a confession he’s waited for his whole life.
“He said people are only angry at life for something they’ve been through. They hurt others to make themselves feel better for the pain they’ve endured.” Our gazes are locked in a standoff and then I see it. My words have affected him and in the depths of green, a flame so slight flickers. I regard the man I first saw as evil, but now that I look at him, and I mean really look at him, I see the pain in his eyes.
“Men are weak when they love. That is why I don’t allow such trivial emotions into my life. Love. It’s a sickness. It makes stronger men weak. It makes kings fall. And it makes warriors lose in battle,” he grunts out, but with every word, I can feel the lies dripping off them.
“And you’ve lost a war before? Have you fallen?” I question. I’m completely out of my element. He’s the bad guy, but when he regards me, there’s no malice. Only sadness. Breath-stealing sorrow.