Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 78044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 390(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I didn’t know she was Alec’s aunt. When Alec and our small party got back to the island, I saw that he had caught a bullet, but it was a flesh wound. Still, seeing it, seeing her peel the shirt off his bloody skin and watching his face, I know it hurt like hell. It may have hurt her as much, from the look on her face.
They’d called a doctor in. She said Cristiano and the other men may need him when they’re back. When. Not if.
But before the doctor got to the house—because we had to wait for transport by either boat or chopper—Lenore had cleaned the wound. I just sat there and watched.
Blood doesn’t bother me. It’s strange, in situations like tonight, I’m just really quiet. Calm even. At least on the outside. I’m not sure, maybe it’s that I’m slow to process what’s happening, to absorb the shock of it. Even after all this time, it is still shocking to hear gunfire considering I was born into a cartel family.
I see my uncle’s face again, the moment his body jerked, and he grabbed hold of me. His eyes had gone wide, filled with fear. But they were also remote. The look before death. Before violent death. Maybe it’s a godsend.
A gift. A mercy he didn’t deserve.
I didn’t see my father killed but I watched my mom as she died. Her eyes looked the same as his.
I swipe my eyes with the heels of my hands and drink another sip of cold tea. I’m sitting on the floor of Cristiano’s bedroom leaning against the wall, staring out the open window at the still dark sky. I should close it. It’s cold but I don’t care. Cerberus is beside me, keeping vigil with me. He’s quiet. I wonder if he senses his master may be in trouble.
May be dead.
God.
What if Cristiano dies?
No. I can’t think about that. It can’t happen.
They wouldn’t let me bring Noah upstairs. Only let me down to see him when I screamed bloody murder. What if someone had gotten to him? He’s an easy target in that cell. But he was all right. Calmer than me when the guards dragged me back upstairs.
What will happen to us if Cristiano dies?
Just then the sound of the chopper’s blades cut through the night. I’m up so fast I tip the cup in my hand, spilling tea on the carpet. Cerberus gives an anxious yelp, his tail wagging once. He remains beside me as I get to the window. The helicopter angles toward the roof, blowing my hair in my face.
I go to the door, Cerberus at my heels. Alec is dozing on a chair outside my door. I don’t know why he wouldn’t just go to bed. I wasn’t going anywhere. He stirs awake when he hears me.
“The chopper,” I say.
He’s on his feet in an instant and I follow him in the opposite direction from the stairs. We take several turns and climb two sets of stairs. All I can think is, please don’t be dead. Please don’t be dead. Please God don’t let him be dead.
And then before I even see him, I hear him.
“I’m fine,” Cristiano growls to someone in his usual annoyed way and relief floods through me.
I’m grateful for Cerberus’s bark as he rushes Cristiano coming around the corner. I have a chance to school my features, tamp down my obvious relief.
He’s my enemy.
He. Is. My. Enemy. I have to remember this.
He may be the lesser of all the evils but that’s only because he needs me. For the moment at least. I know how the cartel works. I understood why my brothers were anxious to get me and Marcus married.
And my uncle’s words from earlier ring in my ears.
Cristiano straightens from his crouch where he was petting Cerberus. I see the pain this causes on his face, and I see how he’s holding his arm against his side. The blood that stains his tuxedo shirt is obvious. He’d had his hand pressed there earlier too. I remember when he’d missed a step as he’d crouched around me, protecting me. Was that when he was hit? Did he save me from a bullet only to take it himself?
His jacket is gone. He looked nice tonight. Cleaned up.
Then his eyes meet mine and I feel a rush of something I can’t or won’t name surge through me.
He’s using you. Just like every one of them. That’s all.
“Cristiano,” Dante says as Cristiano comes to me.
Dante got to the house about an hour ago and has left me alone in Cristiano’s room. That surprised me but I also saw the worry in his eyes. The near panic. He loves his brother.
“Slow down, man. You’ve lost a lot of blood,” Dante says.
“I’m fine,” Cristiano grumbles, stopping in front of me.