Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 71003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71003 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
“I do… but that doesn’t mean I’ll ever stop taking care of you first. You’ll always be first. You deserve that,” I tell her honestly.
“And what do you deserve?”
“Nothing. Not even you, but that doesn’t mean I’ll give you up. I will still have you. Whether I deserve you or not.”
She leans down and places a soft kiss on my shoulder. “Good, because I don’t want you to give me up. In return, I’ll never give up on you.”
I smile back at her, ready to pull her into my arms and peel every piece of clothing off her body when an annoyingly loud knocking interrupts our little bubble of momentary happiness.
“What?” I’m still completely naked, but I really don’t give a shit when the door opens. I sit up and find Alberto stepping into the room.
“Fucking Christ, put some pants on,” he growls, his eyes bulging out of his face before he shields his eyes with his hand.
“What do you want?” I ask, not making a move to cover up. Luckily for him, Dove is completely dressed, or I’d be gouging his eyes out right now.
“Matteo has a job for you. Get ready. And by ready, I mean fucking dressed.”
“Get the fuck out!” I yell, just as he grabs the door handle and slams it shut. Turning back to face Dove, I don’t miss the frown on her delicate face. She should never be sad. I want to see her smiling, always smiling.
“Don’t fret, baby. I’ll be back in bed with you tonight.”
“I know. I just don’t want anything to happen to you and…” She trails off, her cheeks tinting a soft pink.
“You what?”
“I wish I hadn’t fought you so hard when we were back in the bunker at the farmhouse.” Her admission warms me from the inside out. It’s because of her that I haven’t completely gone off the rails, why I’m taking orders from this wannabe mob boss, and why the prick is still alive. Everything I do is for her, and always will be.
“We have forever, Dove, we just have to get through this place first.”
I’m covered from head to toe in blood. I’m not sure which is mine and which is my enemy’s. All I know is that every one of those bastards is dead, the life drained right out of their bodies. Sighing, I squeeze the steering wheel a little harder. Tonight was a bloodbath, and all I want to do is get back to the house, clean myself up, and see Dove.
I can still feel her soft kisses on my skin from hours earlier. I try not to think about the fact that Matteo set me up. The fucker sent me into a fight that most men never would’ve gotten out of alive. Thank fuck, I’m not most men. I had years of experience, killing and shutting myself down to use nothing more than my basic instincts. There wasn’t anything I couldn’t handle, tonight though, that was a trap.
A dirty fucking trap, and I was going to confront Matteo the second I saw him. Pulling the SUV into the driveway, I drive to the garage, put the thing in park, and kill the engine. Giving myself a moment to cool down a little before I get out, I focus on my breathing.
Sucking air deeply into my lungs, I let it settle before blowing it out. I do this a couple more times and then finally get out. There are a few of Matteo’s men posted outside. Since our attempt at escaping, he’s upped security a crazy amount. Not that any of his men could take me on by themselves and survive.
“Holy shit!” one of the men says under his breath as I pass him, entering through the side door of the house. I don’t respond and continue walking. Exiting the garage, I enter the house and hear voices. My bloodied boots squeak against the pure white marble floor with each step I take.
“You need to eat more. You’re far too skinny, Dove,” Matteo’s villainess voice pierces my ears, and I walk a little faster, following the sound. Rounding the corner, I enter the dining room but come to a screeching halt when I see Dove and Matteo.
Dove’s gaze immediately finds mine, and her pretty pink lips part in both terror and alarm. She seems to be shocked, and her big blues, only widen further as they take in my bloodied clothes. Words of rage form against my tongue. I’m spiraling out of control like a plane that’s been shot out of the sky.
This, what I’m seeing right before my eyes, is merely the icing on top of a shittastic cupcake. I want to lash out at Dove, to be angry with her for sitting and having dinner with the enemy, but the real reason for my rage sits at the head of the table, mere feet away from me.