Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76222 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 381(@200wpm)___ 305(@250wpm)___ 254(@300wpm)
Hearing grunts, curses, and groans, a violent sensation suddenly filled me. As I tried to focus, all I could make out were two bodies a few feet from me, one beating the shit out of the other. But things were still so dark that I couldn't see anything but shadowy figures and glimpses of a terrifying, stark-white face. I didn’t know if it was real or just inside my head. Beyond the door, it appeared the basement was empty.
What the fuck?
How long had he been choking me before the feral-sounding demon pulled him off me?
Or am I in hell?
I heard a wet, meaty sound, followed by something hard and heavy hitting the ground.
I blinked my eyes open, not realizing I’d even closed them, but everything was skewed and blurry. I pushed myself up and rested my back against the wall. God, I couldn’t think straight, and I was fighting to not pass out, my throat and chest hurting so badly.
I realized I was crying, adding to my blurred vision, but my arms were so weak I couldn't lift them to wipe the tears away.
I could smell blood in the air, stronger, fresher, mixing with the decay that seemed to be the glue holding this place together, and then I heard a drip, drip, drip as it became louder. No way I could’ve caught the sound over the deafening crowd. Surely, I was in some kind of afterlife because they had all just disappeared.
Yet, when the body on the floor went still, the creature standing over him moved to the side, allowing a flash of muted light to wash into the little room. And it was then I recognized who it was.
It wasn’t a demon with a horrifying, colorless face.
It was the skull-masked fighter.
D’yavol.
His tattooed skin was glossy with sweat and blood, his chest pumping as he breathed harshly. I let my gaze travel to his hands, which were still taped-up, but the adhesive material was no longer white, instead stained dark from the death he inflicted.
Several heartbeats passed with us just staring at each other, and then he walked over. I flinched, pressing myself further against the wall. But he only came close enough to grab my weapon, walk back over to the body that was beginning to rouse and groan, and place the tip of the gun to the top of his head.
I gritted my teeth as I stared into the dark, seemingly lifeless eyes of the fighter and didn’t react when he pulled the trigger. Burying a bullet right in the other man’s skull.
The sound seemed muted, and all I could concentrate on was that darkness creeping back into the corners of my eyes.
And then he rose and tucked the gun into the waistband of his shorts.
The last thing I was aware of was him walking closer, crouching in front of me, and reaching out.
4
GIO
She was a little thing, a petite Russian doll, lying still and curled up in the center of my bed.
Bringing Tatiana Petrov to my home wasn’t the smartest move I’d ever made, but it wasn’t the stupidest one either.
I gripped the apple in my hand and rubbed the bright-red flesh against the fabric of my shirt, polishing it before I brought it to my mouth and sank my teeth in.
I leaned against the doorframe and chewed the sweet fruit, watching Tatiana as she breathed evenly. I should have called her brothers right away. I really shouldn’t have fucking brought her here, but I hadn’t been thinking clearly after shooting the fucker who had been about to take her life.
“Well?” I took another bite of the apple and watched as the discredited physician I called in grabbed his bag and stood to face me.
Henry Lifeflighter had lost his license five years back for writing illegal scripts to fuel his narcotic addiction. And when I found him gambling what little money he had left at one of my clubs—and owing me a large fucking sum of money—I knew I could use him.
So for the last five years, he was on call as my medical bitch whenever I needed his expertise.
One of those times being tonight.
Henry’s eyes were bloodshot. The stench of body odor and the fact that his clothes were wrinkled as hell told me he’d probably been on a gambling bender when I summoned his ass.
“She’ll be fine,” he said, clearing his throat. “Given time.”
I straightened, and he took a step back, clearly sensing my irritation. “Elaborate.”
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at Tatiana. I gave him this moment to collect his thoughts. Although he’d had likely been drinking all day, I could tell he was sober enough to make sure she was going to be okay.
I wouldn’t have let him see her otherwise.
When he faced me again, Henry exhaled and stared me in the eye. It wasn’t something he did often. It was his self-preservation that kept him from meeting me eye-to-eye, as if I were a predator and he was prey.