Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Age was just a number.
Milah would belong to him.
He could just fuck her and be done with it. Force her to take his cock, but of all the bad things he’d done in his lifetime, rape wasn’t one of them.
Damon refused to be tarnished with that brush, even if previous De Luca generations had been known to do it. His father hadn’t. Neither had he. His grandfather, however, that was … different. Damon knew of the tales of his grandfather trapping young women. Especially those who didn’t desire him. Not because of his wealth or looks. Grandad De Luca had been a wealthy, handsome man back in the day. The women who rejected him didn’t want anything to do with the De Luca name. It was one of the reasons the De Lucas and Russos were at war.
Damon didn’t like the tale.
His father said it wasn’t exactly accurate, but apparently there was a young Russo woman. Eighteen, beautiful. Considered to be the most beautiful woman in the country. His grandfather wanted her, but the Russo patriarch of the time denied him. There was no way a De Luca and a Russo would ever marry.
So, because she wasn’t given to his grandfather, she was taken.
This was where the tale twisted. Some believed she died on the way to his grandfather. Others said she was taken to his grandfather where he raped her repeatedly until he drove her crazy and she took her own life.
Damon knew his grandfather was evil.
The bastard had a thirst for blood that his son didn’t quite inherit. With the Russo girl’s death, the war between the two families spilled out. There was no chance of peace. After Russo killed Damon’s mother, De Luca had finally sworn to put an end to the violence by simply wiping out the Russo line.
Not only was he going to do that, but he was also going to make sure Milah Russo bore him a son. He would raise that boy a De Luca, and Russo would know that his own grandson would have De Luca blood running in his veins.
Milah was part of his plan.
What he wanted more than anything was to see her fall.
She was a Russo, and making her fall in love with him, then shattering her world, was also part of his plan. He had inherited some of his grandfather’s evil, but rather than allow it to fester, he would release it.
Chapter Six
Milah was twenty-one years old.
Playing in the snow was for children.
Damon had finally rectified the problem within the house, and the rooms were warm. Glory had told her that several parts of the house had been closed off to help sustain the heating.
She hated that she loved this old house. The only bad part about it was the fact it was owned by De Luca. Men and women from that family had been born and raised here.
The house was more … homey than the one where she lived. Her father wouldn’t allow her to leave home, even though she had tried to do so many times. He didn’t believe in daughters going out on their own until they were married. It was such an archaic way of thinking, and she had laughed at him, which had earned her a slap for her troubles.
For all of his ranting on tradition and what was expected of a Russo woman, he’d given her up to his enemy.
She and Damon were never going to marry. This wasn’t a love match. Was it even a business contract? Damon got to play with Russo’s daughter for an extended length of time.
Milah needed to understand the full ramifications and terms her father had agreed to. She had no idea how she was going to do that without speaking to her father. Or would Damon tell her?
She doubted it. He would want to keep his power over her by any means possible.
She was all alone.
Wrapping her arms around her body, she snuggled into the thick sweater Glory had brought with her, along with the rest of her clothes. She wasn’t allowed to have any clothes. The bedroom was always bare apart from the bed. Glory was the one to bring her clothes in the morning, and she assumed at night as well. Every night, she left Damon’s room, escorted by a guard to her own room. The lock was always slid into place, only to be removed when Glory entered.
The first day she made it down to the kitchen with no one to stop her had surprised her. She expected there to be guards all over wanting to kill her. There were still guards, but they were assigned different jobs.
Staring out the window, across the gardens, it was hard not to be mesmerized by the fallen snow. She didn’t want to marvel at its beauty, nor take a walk outside, but she … couldn’t look away.