Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 77054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
Harper.
I don’t hate her. I need her. I crave her. Her fire, her innocence, her purity, her darkness that mirrors my own… she’s fits me perfectly.
I let myself care for her. Fall for her. Feel for her.
“No,” I hiss and I bring myself to a sudden stop in the hallway. “She’s a distraction. Property. Nothing more than that.”
I keep repeating the words as I turn and walk away.
Even though deep down, I know I’m lying to myself.
Harper
My muscles hurt from all the running, but I don’t stop. I keep circling the same lap over and over in the garden in an effort to rid myself of all the anger seeping through my bones, infecting my heart … all because of Marcello.
My body is still on fire from what happened in my bedroom—how he took me onto his lap and smacked my ass until it was fiery red, then fucked my throat and didn’t blink twice to fill me up.
It made me feel small, powerless.
And completely and utterly head over heels.
I hate myself for it. My mind knows damn well this man is anything but a man to kneel to, but my body can’t stop loving every inch of his. It’s like we’re magnets pulling each other closer, always fighting for domination. And I’m not sure I can win this fight.
I blow out a breath and close my eyes while running, reminding myself to stay in the here and now. Working out is the only thing that can take my mind off things when I’m in trouble. I’m glad Mario allowed me to go outside. I need the fresh air.
But even as I run circles around the garden, my brain keeps running circles around Marcello. I cycle through the same thoughts, again and again, even though I get no closer to feeling better about any of the insane shit that keeps happening to me.
I don’t know if I should be grateful or more upset that I let myself fall into his trap so easily. That I let Marcello convince me a little bit of freedom was worth sacrificing my body. But at the same time, a sliver of freedom is better than nothing at all.
Maybe if I keep doing what he says, if I let him do whatever he wants … I’ll be truly free someday.
But what if he wants more than my body?
What if he wants me to stay?
I gulp and pause to wipe the sweat off my forehead. But as I lean over to stretch, I spot a small shed near the edge of the grounds, near the fence, hidden behind a couple of thick bushes.
Something about it looks … off. I can’t put my finger on it, but it’s wrong somehow. It just doesn’t belong. And that piques my curiosity.
I’ve looked over every other unlocked room in the house as far as I could, left nothing unscathed, but I couldn’t find a single thing about my parents. Not since those documents magically disappeared from Mario’s desk, thanks to Marcello snooping on me.
I try to talk myself down. No reason to get excited about this new discovery. It’s just a shed and probably just used to store garden supplies, but … what if?
It’s worth a shot.
So I look around to see if anyone’s watching me before I slip along the side of the mansion toward the shed. At the door, I knock, hoping no one’s inside.
I’m in luck.
I push down the door handle, and the door squeaks when I open it. Inside are a bunch of racks filled with garden supplies, bags of soil and seeds, shovels, and scissors, as I suspected. But there must be more than meets the eye.
I rummage around, going through every nook and cranny, lifting every box I can find until nothing’s left to search.
That’s when I notice the small hole in the bottom of the floor.
I go to my knees and wipe away the dust and grime until I can push my finger into the hole. I lift the bottom … and it shifts loose.
My heartbeat races as I push away the false bottom, and a box appears underneath. I take it out and inspect it. There’s a biometric scanner on the front. No matter how hard I pull, I can’t seem to open it. Not without the correct thumbprint.
No one would hide a box in this shed without a purpose. Something important is inside, something someone doesn’t want me or anyone else to find.
I’m going to find out what it is. Because it could well be the documents I’m looking for. And I’m going to find a way to get this fucking thing open.
Suddenly, there’s racket coming from somewhere behind me. Turning my head, I look out the door, realizing there’s a commotion beyond the garden. I have to get out of here before someone discovers what I’m doing.