Your Soul to Take Read Online ChaShiree M

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Crime, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors:
Advertisement1

Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 16186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 81(@200wpm)___ 65(@250wpm)___ 54(@300wpm)
<<<<89101112>18
Advertisement2


“Welcome sir. Where will we be going tonight?” My phone dings right at the moment. Barcelona. Of course.

“Barcelona.” I tell the captain before going to my seat and pulling out my onboard laptop. I pull up the file he sent on Hiram. Thirty years old. M.I.T graduate who turned black hat when his parents were murdered, and the killer couldn’t be apprehended due to rules and laws. He circumvented the laws, got the proof anonymously and saw the killers to justice. He then found out there was money to be made and has been on the dark side ever since. On the flip side of that he has a wife and four-year-old daughter.

Closing the laptop, I closed my eyes knowing this is going to be a long flight and I am going to need to be rested. I wait, eyes still closed, picturing the look on her face when I took her virginity and told her she was the love of my life. She cried for a second before her pussy squeezed me so tight I damn near blacked out.

Sometime during the night after she had dozed off, I found myself pushing my seed back inside of her, kissing her stomach, praying for a piece of the both of us to grow there. Bind her to me for eternity. “You may now move about the cabin.” The announcement makes me stand and walk to the back.

I take off my clothes, slide under the covers and allow my mind to drift. For the next eleven hours, I am going to replay my night with her over and over. Let that keep me warm.

“Now, Now. Just tell me what I want to know.” Leaning against a wall, I watch as the man who was supposed to be loyal to my woman blubbers and cries, giving me excuse after excuse about why he betrayed her. I mean I get it. If it were my wife and child I would do anything to get them back. But, right now, I can't think like that.

“I can’t. If they find out I told you they will kill my family,” he says, face wet from being waterboarded.

“That sounds like a personal problem, Hiram. All I need to know is where you sent her.” I have been here for four hours, slowly losing patience. My tech guy installed some software on his computer and is combing it now trying to find any leads. “The thing is, Hiram, if my guy finds the answer first, I am going to release the latch holding your chair in place and electrocute you to death. If you want a chance to see your family again, tell me what I want to know.”

Below his feet is a tub, filled with water and a heater inside of it, plugged into a military grade socket. His chair is leaning so his feet are up in the air. I have a rope holding his chair in this position. The minute I swing my knife, the rope falls and so does his chair. And it is bye, bye Hiram.

“Please. Listen. I like her. I have been working for her for months. All I did was give her the information she asked me for.”

“I know this to be true, but you did a little more than that, didn’t you. You gave her the information and didn’t tell her they are waiting for her. Now tell me where the fuck you sent her.” I walk towards his chair, patience now gone. Fear is clogging my arteries. Fear that she is lying dead somewhere, crying out for me. Fear that she is being held somewhere, tortured, beaten, abused. Fear that I am never going to find her. In my heart I know she is still alive, breathing. How do I know that? Because my heart is still beating. The minute hers stops, so will mine.

My pocket buzzes and I know I have what I was looking for. When I take out my phone, Hiram gasps, figuring out he has run out of time. “Wait. Wait. I will tell you. I will tell you everything,” he cries trying now to barter with time he no longer has.

“It’s too late. You had your chance.” Without a moment's hesitation, I release the rope and walk out as he begins to fry. I can see the sparks behind me, hear his fading cries and the sound of rattling and banging. I text message the driver I hired to take me around this city, telling him to meet me downstairs.

I get in the back of the car and close my eyes. Hopefully it is not too late.

SEVEN

CATRIONA

SIX WEEKS LATER

“Not now. Not now,” I mumble under my breath, trying to stop the impending debilitating illness from interfering.

“I swear I don’t know anything. He just picked the girl up and told me to take her.” Sneering, I shake my head tired of going around in circles for the last three hours.


Advertisement3

<<<<89101112>18

Advertisement4