Total pages in book: 767
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 732023 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 3660(@200wpm)___ 2928(@250wpm)___ 2440(@300wpm)
“Jeremy,” Magda takes his arm, “your son needs medical attention. I’ll cover all the costs, of course. I do apologize for this unfortunate misunderstanding.”
It’s a subtle way of telling him to leave. Magda knows me too well. I’m a lunatic, and right now, I’m about as stable as an active volcano.
Jeremy frees his arm. “Let’s go, Diogo.”
Diogo sneers at me as he passes, clutching his side. He should’ve just carried on walking, but the mistake he makes is to turn back in the doorway.
“You know what your problem is, honey?” he says to Valentina. “You’re too damn pretty. It’s a shame you’re also a prude. I think you would’ve enjoyed it if I’d jumped you against the wall.”
Just like that, my frayed control unravels. Magda grabs for the hem of my jacket as I lurch forward and catch the cocksucker around the neck. Jeremy is cussing and trying to pull my arms away from his son, but not a hundred horses are enough to tear me away. I drag him by his scrawny neck to Valentina and force him down on his knees at her feet. I grab a fistful of his perfectly styled hair and jerk his head back. Reaching for the same knife Valentina used to defend herself, I push the tip against his lilywhite, pretty-boy neck.
“Apologize.”
“Diogo,” Jeremy says from behind me, a tremor in his voice, “do as he says.”
“Gabriel.” There’s consternation in Magda’s tone, but she doesn’t touch me. The situation is too volatile. I’m too unpredictable. A flick of my wrist and Diogo’s life will bleed out at Valentina’s feet. Only, I don’t want another man’s blood on her conscience. She already feels responsible for Tiny’s death. Diogo doesn’t deserve the guilt she’ll suffer over him.
“I’m sorry,” Diogo grits out.
I jerk harder on his hair, making him cry out in pain. “Say it like you mean it.”
“I’m really fucking sorry.”
I lodge the tip of the knife under his skin. “Beg.” A thin trickle of blood runs down his neck under his collar.
“Forgive me,” he says. “I beg you.”
I look at Valentina. “Do you forgive him?”
She looks at me with owl eyes. “Yes.”
“You’re more compassionate than me.” I yank him up by his hair until he finds his feet. “Get the fuck out of my house. The deal’s off, and you better pray I don’t run into you on the street. You better stay very far away from me.”
When I let go, Diogo stumbles to his father. Magda is paler than the white tiles on the floor, quiet for once. Jeremy gives me a narrowed glare, but he takes Diogo’s arm and escorts him from the room. You don’t insult a man in his own house. Jeremy knows this. He knows I can cut Diogo’s throat for that, and none of his business associates will retaliate.
Magda rubs the back of her neck. “I’ll see you out.” She turns to Valentina. “You better go to your room and not come out until morning. If I see your face before, I may not be able to suppress the urge to kill you.”
When it’s just the two of us in the kitchen, I take her in my arms and give her a hug. “You okay?”
She nods. “I didn’t want to cause trouble.”
“You did the right thing.” I kiss her nose. “I’m proud of you.”
“You put your life at risk. They’re going to kill you.”
“They’ll try, but so is every other criminal and cop in the country. You’re mine, Valentina, and nobody touches you.”
The clicking of Magda’s heels down the hallway makes me go rigid. “Go to bed.”
“The kitchen––”
“Can wait for tomorrow. Go.”
She obeys wordlessly. By the time Magda reenters the room, Valentina is out of sight.
“In my study.” Magda stalks from the room, not waiting to see if I’m following.
She holds the door for me and slams it when I step over the threshold.
“Are you out of your goddamn mind?”
“You know I am, Magda.”
“Do you have any idea how hard I worked to secure that deal?” She pushes her finger in my face. “What gave you the right to blow it away? Over a fucking maid!”
I grab her finger and move it away with force. The act catches her off-guard. She stumbles a step back and gapes at me with a mixture of disbelief and fear.
“If you ever push your finger in my face again, I’ll break it.”
“Gabriel,” she exclaims on a gasp, “I’m your mother.”
“You’ve never been a mother to me. Don’t claim the designation now.”
“What’s gotten into you? You blew a multi-million-rand deal, for God’s sake!” She straightens her back, her fear suddenly gone. “Don’t think you’re above my punishment because you’re my son. You’re taking this game you’re playing with the girl too far. You’ve had your fun. Let her slip up and kill her so we can all go back to our lives.”