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)
She hits it twice, staring up at the smoke before passing it over.
I glare at the side of her face and finally, she looks over, coughing through a laugh.
“Come on, princess.” She nudges me with her knee. “Have some.”
“Get out of my room.”
“Have some and I will.”
My eyes narrow. “If you’re trying to drug me, I will kill you when I come to.”
“You and Enzo both.” She pushes it farther in my face.
Groaning, I tear it from her fingers, pulling in a long lungful, but blowing it out before it makes me choke straight into her smirking face.
Katana only smiles wider. “Someone is a secret pothead. She knows how to avoid the burn.”
“She has real weapons now.”
Katana’s muscles lock, but a moment later, the girl laughs again, and I’m convinced she has issues.
The problem? She doesn’t seem to see me as one of those issues and I’m not sure what to do with that.
This has to be a play, right? Get in my head, piss me off, screw me over, then screw my man.
Not that she hasn’t already.
Not that she might not still be.
Not that he’s really mine.
We’re both quiet for a while, lost in our own thoughts, mine a full-on shitstorm. The blunt is steadily passed between us until my room is a pit of fog and we’re down to less than half of what we started with.
“Tonight was the first night I’ve been out of this house in two years,” she admits into the air.
I tense, but something refuses to allow me to look at her…and I think it might be a subconscious understanding that she doesn’t want me to. I don’t know why I care. In fact, I should look at her simply because she doesn’t want me to, but I don’t.
I want to ask her what she means. Why she hasn’t left and if it’s been her decision or his.
Is she his prisoner?
His sex slave?
A chill breaks out across my skin and I frown at the wall across from me.
It’s not uncommon in my world, for men to take advantage of women and force them into things they don’t want. Of course, my father cut the cocks off any man under his rule who was so much as rumored to have harmed a woman in any form.
Does Enzo allow such behavior in his ranks?
There’s nothing but men working in this mansion. Does that mean he can’t trust them around women?
Am I not safe in these walls?
Is Katana not safe?
Why do you care?!
My frown deepens.
So she hasn’t been out in two years and tonight, she was done up and dressed in a beautiful gown, so excited to go to the most boring type of event that exists—a fundraiser—and I was a total bitch, pissing on her parade from the moment we piled into the car.
She’s fucked your husband before, Boston. He was hers first.
One of the many famous words from my father come sliding in and, now more than ever, they make sense: Never trust someone who has something to gain from your fall.
Katana definitely has something to gain if I go down.
Her husband back.
This time, when Katana passes the blunt back my way, I don’t reach for it, and she doesn’t pull it up for another hit. A few moments later, the cherry burns out, and instead of relighting, Katana silently climbs off of my bed.
Her movement is slow, and it’s almost if she’s hoping I’ll ask her to stay. If that’s the case, she’s about to be disappointed.
The faster she’s out of here, the better.
She makes it halfway to the door when we hear footsteps in the hall.
We freeze, and then Enzo’s large frame is taking over the doorway.
He jerks to a stop, his mouth opening and clamping shut as he takes in the two of us.
“No.” He scowls. “Hell no.” His eyes beat around the room, landing on her. “Where is your guard?”
She needs a guard in this fortress?
“He may or may not be passed out on the floor by my door.” She smiles, as if proud. “That tea of his is no joke.”
“Not when you put your sleeping pills in it, it’s not.” Based on the way he frowns, his words are not a guess, letting me in on the fact her drugging her “guard” is a repeat offense. “Out. Now.”
She walks to the door, pausing right beside him and looking back at me.
My eyes narrow and she smiles sloppily, dazed off her ass. “Don’t worry, Enzo. I didn’t tell her about your issue, you know, rising to the occasion.”
I’ve lifted and heaved a lamp at her before she’s even finished her sentence. She squeals, ducking just as the porcelain explodes over the wall beside her head, and laughs her ass down the hall.
Crazy bitch.
Enzo’s hard eyes swing back to mine, narrowing as if he’s searching.