Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66590 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 333(@200wpm)___ 266(@250wpm)___ 222(@300wpm)
His face washed even paler.
“That’s what I thought.” I turned away from him and walked out of the room.
It was a seed of dissent, planted and waiting to grow. He loved his sister, and no emotion was so easily exploited or manipulated as love. The Outfit was useful to me for now, but information was currency, and when dealing with men like Sergio Donato, I always liked to keep the key to their destruction in my back pocket. I wouldn’t waste the opportunity to gather such information, especially when Renzo would do anything for his sweet little sister.
6
Emilia
I’d been in this room for at least a day, though without a window, it was impossible to know exactly. All I had to go on were those screens changing from a starry night sky over the Nevada desert to a sunrise on a beach, then a scene of the mountains, and finally a sunset somewhere in Asia, before returning to night again. That was more than I’d ever had in the basement, and if I tried hard, I could almost pretend those screens were an actual window. It kept the nagging sense of panic at bay for a little while.
Despite being in this room with nothing to do but sleep or stare at the wall, I was exhausted. Every time I closed my eyes, nightmares plagued me, shadowy figures trying to kill me, and my brother bleeding out, dying. My only distraction from the four walls pressing in on me was a pen and notebook I’d found in the nightstand. I sat cross-legged on the bed, shading a bloody heart clutched in a fist. Drawing was something I always had in the basement. That and reading, because notepads, books, and pencils were all my father allowed me to have down there. I’d found a certain solace in it, though, a way to express myself in a world where emotions were unwelcome.
I paused as footsteps approached my door. It swung open with a bang, and I scrambled off the bed. Giovanni smirked, clearly amused by my skittish state, before leaning against the doorframe. Shirtless. Very shirtless and clearly fresh from a workout. My cheeks burned as I took in the sheen of sweat on his chest. I had the insane urge to touch the defined planes, to catch that bead of sweat rolling between his pecs. I told myself to look at the floor, the ceiling, anything. Anywhere. But my gaze trailed down a body that was every bit as perfect as his face. Giovanni Guerra was a sinful lure, all golden skin and tattoos. That deep V that dropped into the waistband of his workout shorts…
He made a suit look good, but this… yeah, this was better. No, worse. Of all the issues I thought I might experience when I was promised to this man, being attracted to him was not one of them. In that moment, I loathed myself for feeling even an inkling of lust toward him. If I needed confirmation that the man was a monster, I had it because only the devil could be that beautiful.
His gaze swept over me unapologetically, and my arms folded over my chest, trying to hide myself, even though I’d just been doing the same thing. But I wasn’t parading around half-naked.
“You look like shit,” he finally said, dragging his hand through dark, unruly curls.
“Thanks. Getting pistol-whipped, then kidnapped, and shot by an asshole will do that for you.” I expected that to earn me some pain, but he ignored me.
“There’s food in the kitchen. Go eat.”
It wasn’t a suggestion, more like a command, but I wasn’t one of his damn soldiers. ”No.”
His jaw clenched, his fists tightening at his sides. “Emilia—” he growled out my name like a curse, and I cut him off.
“Is my brother alive?”
His angry gaze settled over me as if deliberating how cruel he wanted to be today. “If I tell you, will you go eat?”
Why the hell did he care if I ate or not? I nodded anyway, eager for any news of Renzo.
“Yes, he is alive.”
“Where is he?”
That seemed to be the limits of his kindness, though. “As I said before, worry about yourself, princess.”
I rounded the bed, only stopping when I was a couple of feet away from him. “What are you going to do, Giovanni? Kill me?”
No, worse, he was going to marry me. I shouldn’t have pushed him, but the unfairness of it all, the hopelessness, drove me past rational and right into reckless territory. Maybe in some twisted corner of my mind, I wanted his cruelty because that was what I expected, what I knew. And I needed familiar ground because I was so far out of my comfort zone.
A small smile curled the corner of his lips. “Why would I kill you, piccola?”