Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
“What else did he do?” The words rumble from my chest as my control starts to slip.
She shakes her head. “Nothing that will leave a permanent mark.”
My anger increases tenfold, but outwardly I look calm.
“What else?” I demand.
Her hands are clutched together on her lap, her shoulders hunched.
I want to hold and comfort her, but as the plane takes off, I remain seated.
“He hit me with his belt,” she whispers. “Like I was a disobedient child.”
He fucking shamed her.
I look at the woman who’s only evoked protectiveness and possessiveness in me, and I find it hard to comprehend how anyone can hurt her. It’s like kicking a kitten.
I never interfere with bratva business unless ordered to, but Makarova made it personal by assaulting the woman that’s promised to me.
When he least expects it, I’ll retaliate.
“I’m sorry you got hurt.”
She shakes her head again, and I notice a tear falling on her fingers. She quickly wipes the evidence away.
I watch as Tiana cries without making a single sound, and it’s the most heartbreaking thing I’ve ever witnessed.
The moment the seat belt sign is off, I get up and unbuckle her belt. Pulling her up, I wrap her tightly against my chest. Her body trembles against mine, her shoulders shuddering with the silent sobs.
For this, Makarova will die.
I brush my hand up and down Tiana’s back, but suddenly she flinches and pulls away from me. The flash of pain on her face is so fucking fleeting I almost miss it.
I’m going to fucking rip that piece of shit limb from limb.
“Show me your back,” I growl, my tone too harsh as the last of my control slips through my fingers.
She shakes her head, and wrapping her arms around her middle, she takes another step away from me.
Softening my voice, I say, “Show me your back, piccola.”
“Stop calling me a child,” she mutters, her eyes flicking to me with a bruised expression in them.
“Piccola means little one.” I take a step closer to her. “It’s a term of endearment.”
Her gaze flicks to mine, then slowly, she turns around. When she doesn’t lift her top, I close the distance between us and pull the fabric up.
Red and blue welts cover her entire lower back. The sight has me clenching my jaw as uncontrollable rage floods me.
Jesus, that had to hurt.
As gently as possible, I lower the fabric and take a couple of steps away from her as I try to regain control over the rage threatening to make me destroy the cabin. Me losing my shit in the confined space of a plane is the last thing Tiana needs to witness.
“It’s not as bad as it looks,” she whispers.
My eyes snap to hers, and instantly she moves farther away from me, fear flashing over her face.
Few people in this world have seen me angry. Most of them are dead.
I might be the cool-headed one among my friends, but once I lose my shit, I fucking lose it completely.
Calm down. Tiana’s terrified enough.
Knowing I’m scaring Tiana, I grumble, “I won’t hurt you. I’m just fucking angry that you were hurt.”
Her eyes remain glued to my face until I regain complete control over my emotions.
I gesture for her to sit as I take my own seat again. After pouring myself a tumbler of whiskey, I drink half of the amber liquid before looking at Tiana.
“We’ll have your back looked at once we’re at St. Monarch’s.”
“I’m okay.” The caution doesn’t leave her eyes, and she looks exhausted.
“Try to get some sleep.”
She shakes her head and turns her head to stare out of the window.
Wanting to take her mind off everything, I say, “I told my mother about you. I think the two of you will get along. She loves to cook and bake, as well.”
Hesitation tightens her features before she asks, “Does she live with you?”
“No. She lives with her sister, not too far from my apartment. I’m sure I mentioned it to you at the wedding.”
“Right.” Tiana nods as she inhales deeply. “I remember now.” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “What will you expect…of me once…we’re…ahh…married?”
“Have something to drink, piccola.”
She helps herself to a bottle of water, and I wait until she’s quenched her thirst before I say, “I expect loyalty.”
When I don’t add anything else, her eyes flit to my face. “And?”
I stare at her before saying, “Why don’t you tell me what you’re worried about so I can set your mind at ease.”
“I just want to know what’s expected of me, so I don’t do anything to upset you.”
I let out a heavy breath as I shake my head. “It takes a lot to upset me. As long as you’re faithful to me, we’ll be fine.”
“Will the same count for you?”
I can see the regret in her eyes the moment she’s done asking the question.