Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118042 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 590(@200wpm)___ 472(@250wpm)___ 393(@300wpm)
I scooted higher against the pillows, resting my hands on the thick sheaf of paper my brother had given me. I was still dressed after saying goodnight to him and Ily. They’d cut across the meadow with their two-year-old daughter swinging from their hands.
I still hadn’t gotten used to the idea that I was an uncle.
Or the fact that three other half-siblings had reached out.
I hadn’t talked to them as much as Henri had but they seemed sane enough. Not sane enough that I wanted them around my family, but at least my fears that my father’s progeny were out there, raping and murdering, seemed foundless…for now.
“Reading.” My heart caught at how effortlessly tempting she was. Even folding laundry.
“Reading what?” Abandoning the towels, she threw herself beside me and reached for the paper.
I let her. “Fact delivered as fiction. As he once said.”
“Oh, is this his book?” Tess sat cross-legged and flicked through the pages. “He finally finished?”
I nodded, scowling. “He wanted my opinion before submitting it to a publisher.”
“And? What do you think?”
“He’s listed almost every deletion we’ve performed together. He’s playing with fucking fire.”
“Yeah but no one will believe it’s real.” Her eyes skimmed a middle chapter. “Oh wow, he really does list everything.”
“What if Priti or Lino figure out that it’s true?”
Tess grinned her savage little grin. “Then they’ll be proud to have such badass fathers.”
“And if law enforcement get tetchy?”
“Meh, they’ve turned a blind eye to you for decades. It’s a story. A gruesome one but…still just a story.” Bundling up the pages, she placed the stack on her bedside table. “I think it’s good that people see the truth, even if they don’t believe it’s real.”
Crawling over me, she straddled my hips and unbuttoned my shirt with that familiar look in her blue-grey eyes. “Now…maître.”
Instantly, the beast inside me woke up.
Yanked at its leash.
Got ready to play.
Grabbing her around the waist, I threw her off me, launched off the bed, and tossed her over my shoulder. “You know what happens when you call me that, esclave.”
She squirmed as I spanked her ass. “I get lucky?”
I chuckled. “No. You get to scream.”
Epilogue Four
………………………….
Peter
Another couple of years later…
“OH MY GOD. LOOK!” LUCY dashed toward the quaint bookshop as we strolled through central London. Her bright red hair shone like fire in the late afternoon sunshine. Her luscious curves bundled in thick winter woollies.
We’d caught the tube to the city for the weekend. Scoping out the local pubs for ideas and menu additions.
Ever since I’d purchased the rambling two-hundred-year-old pub off her father, Lucy had agreed to help me run it even though she’d been studying to go into hotel management. I’d said…why not do both?
We had the space.
The time.
The drive.
She’d come up with the great idea to renovate the unused attic into cute bedrooms instead of building an addition. Together, we’d turned a breaking-even business into a tidy money earner.
It also helped that Henri had deposited five million euros into my bank account.
He hadn’t even asked.
He’d just enlisted Ben to hack into my system and boom...
I woke up a millionaire.
I’d tried to give it back, but he’d towered over me, and for a second, I saw him as Master H and not as my best friend. The triggers didn’t often catch me unawares these days. The hauntings of all those we’d lost remembered with fondness instead of grief. We’d held a funeral for all those who’d died and those who’d survived stayed in touch in the group chat.
Four years had passed since we’d gotten free, but…every now and again, a man would look at me a little too intently or a certain word would make me flinch.
Thanks to the many scars on my body, Lucy had asked what’d happened when she first saw me naked.
I believed Ily told her a fair bit each time we went to stay with them, but I’d chosen my secrets carefully.
I loved this woman.
I’d married this woman last year in a garden ceremony with my parents and extended family who’d flown in from Jaipur. I hadn’t intended to stay in England, but…I wanted to stay close to my folks.
Five and a half years of torture had made me appreciate the small things in life. The important things. The everyday things.
And family? That was priceless.
“Well, fuck me.” I chuckled, peering through the window. “He actually did it. He told me it wasn’t coming out till next year, the sneaky bastard.”
Lucy grabbed my hand and tugged me into the shop. The discomfort from being shot and losing the function of my arm for a time was barely a twinge these days. Rehab and physical therapy had ensured I’d gained my strength back.
I’d also found a new love in life—cooking in the ancient kitchen and feeding all walks of life that visited our pub.
The little bell chimed as we traded freezing winter streets for cosy musty pages.