Total pages in book: 133
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 641(@200wpm)___ 513(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Mino laughs, shaking his head, but his mask slips back in place with his next breath. “Tell us where our girl is. Enough of this.”
“She’s currently sitting at a stoplight on Fifth Avenue.”
I lower my gun and step closer to her, taking the tablet from her hand, not caring if or when Bastian lowers his weapon, trusting Mino will have my back as he always does.
My pulse is hammering, beating wildly in my chest, but the moment I look at the screen, I forget what’s going on and that my bride rebelled at the worst possible fucking time.
All I see is her and the gown she chose.
I wondered why her sister and the others, men included, walked in wearing all white, and now it makes perfect sense, because my baby, my little bride, is plunged in pitch black.
The lipstick she’s wearing and the soft set of her hair.
The pierce of her green eyes beneath long thick lashes, and a sharp point of makeup that makes her all the more fierce.
She looks like a demon bride, my little demon on a mission and ready to kill.
Fuck, she’s beautiful.
I’m going to strangle her.
With my cock.
You’re in so much trouble, Little Bride.
My teeth clench and I look up, my glare fixed on her twin. “Where is she going?”
Rocklin shakes her head, eyeing me curiously as Bronx tears the tablet from my fingers. “Like I said, I don’t know, and I don’t know how long the feed will last. This is just the prototype. I haven’t even put this through testing.”
My teeth ache from being clenched so hard as I flick my gaze across the group. “None of you know what she’s up to?”
Katana reaches us then, hands folded over her chest as she meets my gaze. “I do…”
I jolt forward, taking her arm in my hand, and tug her toward me, but Bronx opens her mouth again before I have a chance to say a word.
“Uh…guys.”
My muscles bunch when Bronx speaks, and it takes effort to force my gaze back to the screen.
My lips part, brows snapping together because, “What in the actual fuck?”
Boston
I tilt my head back, running my palms down my gown. “Why am I nervous?” I look up, finding Nicholas already staring at me in the mirror.
His grin is wide, and he takes his hat off, running his hand through his golden hair as we wait at the light. “Pretty sure that’s a thing, right?”
“How many brides have you known?”
He shrugs, looking at the screen of his phone before tossing it in his lap. “I know a thing or two about contract marriages. Of course, the bride in that story wasn’t the one who initiated, that’s for damn sure.”
“Yeah, well. I didn’t exactly have another choice, did I? It was find myself a husband or wait and see who I was gifted to down the line.”
He holds my gaze a moment. “It’s not too late, you know. There is another option.”
I scoff, dropping my head back and closing my eyes. “Little late for this pep talk, Galley.”
“What if it wasn’t?”
I almost smile, my eyes snapping open to meet his. “If it wasn’t…I would want to know.”
He nods, cursing when a car honks their horn behind us. “Hold tight, princess. We’re almost there.”
I force a half smile, dropping my eyes to my lap just as the privacy screen begins to rise into place, blocking us from one another.
The moment it clicks, I roll my eyes, reaching over to hit the lock feature from my side. Scooting over, I pull on the latch to lower the left-side seat. Blonde hair and fake green eyes meet mine as the stowaway shimmies from the small trunk space, pulling herself out completely and sighing when her ass hits the seat.
“It’s been a hot minute since I was locked in a trunk,” she says.
I raise a brow, and she shrugs, leaning over and looking out the window before spinning and glancing out the back. Finally, she meets my gaze, holding her hand out in greeting. “Victoria Brayshaw.”
I clasp my hand in hers, even if the greeting does feel a little pedestrian, all things considered. “Boston Fikile.”
“So my man was right. You’re already married?”
I don’t bother answering, but she doesn’t really care for a response, not pausing before she asks, “Are we all set?”
“This is as good a chance as I can give.” I reach into the built-in bra of my dress and pull out the item matching the one dangling from her hand. “If they kill you, it’s your own fault.”
“And if they find you and take you, that’s your fault. No one in your family touches anyone in mine.”
“That was the deal we made.”
She fixes the veil on her head, smoothing the few pieces of hair that slipped free. “Maddoc doesn’t think we can trust you.”