Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 54092 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 270(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
"Diego told you my name," he says.
"This city told me your name," I correct with a shake of my head. "It might be hard to hear the whispers from up in your ivory tower, but they're quite loud down here with the common folk."
"Are they?" His lips twitch.
"Mmhmm."
"What do the rumors say, tesoro?" Rafael asks.
"About Luca?" I meet his gaze. "Much less than they do about you."
"What do they say about me?"
"Mostly that you're a murderous fiend who gets off on terrorizing people."
"Jesus," Luca says with another laugh.
I fight the urge to squirm. I shouldn't have said that. It is what people say though. They've been saying it for years. Anytime anyone disappears in this city, they blame Rafael. When someone dies under suspicious circumstances, it doesn't take long before people start whispering that Rafael had them killed for one reason or another.
People call him the devil because they fear him. He's the bogeyman, the monster that grows more monstrous with each retelling. Who knows how much is truth and how much is fiction at this point? But it's not all fiction, that much is certain. This man has blood on his hands, and a lot of it. He isn't a good man. And yet…and yet something about him attracts me anyway.
Absolutely not, Amalia. No. No way.
"Do you believe them?"
I turn to stare out the window instead of answering, not sure he'd like the answer if I gave it. The city passes in silent blurs as we leave gang territory behind…as we leave my territory behind. No one is ever safe where I live, but I'm far safer there than where we're going.
My soul is, anyway. The devil can't claim it there.
"Answer me, Amalia," Rafael demands, his voice soft.
I turn my gaze back to him to find his dark eyes locked on me, that same fire burning in them. It lights up something inside me, sets it to burning too. Do I believe the rumors? Hell yes, I do. Only an idiot looks at a lion and believes he's a lamb.
"Is there a reason I shouldn't?" I ask, cocking a brow.
"Not every rumor is true," he says.
"But most have a little truth to them."
He sighs, but he doesn't disagree.
We both know he can't.
Half an hour later, we stop at a massive gate so security can buzz us through. Perfectly pruned bushes line the driveway on both sides, sculpted into impressive shapes. I catch glimpses of rolling green grass and fountains beyond. And then the house itself comes into view. My rundown apartment complex could easily fit within.
Imposing columns shoot into the air, standing like sentinels on either side of the massive front doors. Ivy climbs up the stone walls, lending an air of antiquity to it. This place isn't a home. It's a fortress, every bit the ivory tower I called it earlier. Only it's brick instead of white…and somehow made more overwhelming because of it.
A dozen men in black suits line the circular driveway, each standing in the exact same position. Each wearing the exact same expression. They're replicas of one another, all twelve of them big, muscular, overwhelmingly large.
The SUV rolls to a stop in front of the steps.
My stomach trembles for the first time since I marched outside to confront Rafael. I fight the urge to fidget, schooling my features into a mask of cool disdain. Inside, I'm a mess of nerves, swallowing back the bile creeping up my throat.
One of the men steps forward to open the door of the SUV.
Rafael casts a glance at me that's a quagmire of dark and light. It confuses me, makes me ache in ways and places that shouldn't be possible. He slides out without saying anything, his leather and brandy scent wreaking havoc on my already overloaded system. He murmurs something to his man and then reaches back for my hand.
"Come, tesoro," he says, his voice as soft as ever.
I don’t think he has to raise it to be heard and obeyed. People probably jump to keep him happy. Part of me wants to defy him just to see what he'll do. Just to unravel him and that control he wears like armor. I want to know what he's like underneath it, what secrets he hides beneath that insufferable mask of cool command and cold indifference. But I don’t think this is the time to satisfy my curiosity.
I take his hand instead, letting him help me from the SUV. His hand is warm around mine, sending a frisson of heat up my arm. He keeps me pressed to his side, almost as if to protect me from these men.
Why?
"This is Amalia," he says, a razor-sharp edge to his voice that catches me off guard. This is the Rafael that holds this city in an iron grip, the one they fear. This is their king speaking. "If a single hair on her head is harmed, you'll die by my hand. Interfere between us, and you'll answer to me. Treat her with anything less than respect, you'll wish for death. Touch her, and I'll kill you so slowly you'll beg for death."