Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 53880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 53880 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 269(@200wpm)___ 216(@250wpm)___ 180(@300wpm)
“Sidorov and I have something in common,” I say. “I too believe a deal is a deal. And if you go back on this deal, I’ll make sure a bullet actually hits you. I don’t miss.”
“I’d like to see you fucking try,” Bryant says between clenched teeth. He inhales deeply rather than continuing on. After a few moments, he finally says, “Lyriope is a Morelli. My daughter. I’ll acknowledge her.”
“Her brother, Dylan, as well,” I add.
Bryant simply nods.
“Agreed,” I say. “From this moment on, Lyriope is my concern. What happens to her will have nothing to do with either of you.”
“And as long as the agreed payment is given to me within twenty-four hours,” Siderov says, “I’m moving on to other business.”
“And as long as she isn’t living under my roof, I don’t care where she ends up,” Bryant adds. “It doesn’t matter whether I claim her as my daughter. You think the Morelli name gives her protection? It doesn’t. We’re bound for hell, this family. She can come with us.”
“No,” I say softly. “She’s coming with me.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Lyriope
I open my eyes all the way and let out a sigh of relief. I am in a large bed with massive posts on each corner. I smile seeing the wood on the bed is intricately carved with flowers and vines, small butterflies and birds. I’m back in my old room in Nick Hudson’s mansion, and it feels safe. Turning my head slowly, I see the same beautiful workmanship on the headboard, where several fluffy pillows are stacked. I might be in a very comfortable bed with soft cotton sheets and an all white comforter lying over me, but the carvings remind me of my past with Nick.
I swing my feet over the side of the bed, pausing a moment to allow the blood to rush back to my legs. I don’t exactly feel strong, but once again feel grateful I don’t have a pounding headache and am not in need of medical care from the blow to my head. Taking small steps and reaching out for the wall in case I get dizzy, I make my way to the bathroom. I pause to stare at my reflection in the mirror and cringe. I have a small gash on my forehead—though nothing to be really alarmed about. If it scars, it’ll be a small one and I’ll consider it a battle wound—a reminder of the fact that Nick and I… the two of us have survived together. I am far more concerned about the large purple and black goose egg at my temple. My eyes have dark circles under them, and my hair is a matted mess, reminding me of Medusa’s writhing snakes. I look like I have just weathered a huge storm—which, in all reality, I have. How Nick can have feelings for the woman staring back at me, I have no idea. But I do plan to clean myself up so the next time he lays eyes on me, I will be somewhat decent in appearance.
Moving to the shower, turning on the tap to start the hot water, I finally allow the events of last night to sink in. Once steam rolls out of the stall, I step in, gasping at the heat but grateful for it. Without warning, suddenly my tears join the water that’s streaming over my head as I finally break.
Within moments, I’m sobbing, gasping for air that refuses to fill my lungs. Stepping back, I press against the cooler tiles of the wall, sliding down them until my butt meets the floor. Drawing my knees up, I wrap my arms around them, burying my face in my arms, not thinking, just releasing the emotion that refuses to be trapped inside me any longer.
This isn’t how things were supposed to happen. This isn’t what I had hoped for. Did I expect to be Daddy’s girl? No. But I did think we would somehow connect. I would eventually be seen as a Morelli and welcomed into the fold. When the attack happened and bullets were flying, my own father did nothing to protect me. He didn’t reach out to cover me, he didn’t grab my head to force me to duck. No. He only worried about himself and his protection. He didn’t even look at me when the glass of the car shattered, and I screamed. He simply worried about himself. Self-preservation over his own daughter. Flesh and blood does not exist when it comes to Bryant Morelli.
I have no idea how long I’ve been sitting here when I let out a small scream, my body jerking.
“Shh, you’re all right. I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
My heart’s pounding, and I can’t seem to stop shaking. My teeth are chattering hard enough that I’m afraid I’ll bite my tongue off. Before I can process the fact that I’m no longer alone, Nick has stripped off his clothes and has stepped into the stall. He pulls me up and turns me around, my back to his chest as he moves me beneath the water. Warmth surrounds me, the hot water steaming over my front, his body heat against my back.