Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“Don’t worry,” I taunt before winking at her. “I’ll be seeing you really soon.”
Monica scowls at me, not knowing what to say before quickly scurrying after her piece-of-shit husband, leaving me with the other guy. He stands behind the bars, his muscled arms crossed over his chest, just simply staring at me.
He doesn’t say a word, but there’s clear disdain in his eyes as though he’s trying to figure out exactly what he intends to do with me. “You caused me a lot of trouble and cost me a good payday.”
“Take it up with Killian,” I say. “The way you run your business has got nothing to do with me.”
His gaze narrows. “Is that so?” he growls.
“You know he’s coming for you too,” I tell him. “Once he figures out what happened to me—and he will—you’ll be served the same fate that Sergiu has coming to him.”
He scoffs. “You think you’re that important, huh? You’re a whore, a dirty piece of ass for him to throw around. He doesn’t care about you, and he sure as fuck isn’t coming to save you. There’ll be a new whore warming his bed by the end of the night.”
A grin pulls at my lips, and even though there’s a good chance I might end up dead, I’ll be so damn happy to watch Killian come for revenge. “You don’t know, do you?”
“Know what?”
I laugh, all too amused by the fate that’s waiting for him. “You haven’t abducted some cheap whore. You abducted Killian DeLorenzo’s wife—the woman who owns his heart. He is the most powerful man on this earth, and nothing will stop him from finding me. When he does, I can guarantee you are going to wish you never laid eyes on me.”
“Wife, huh?”
“That’s right.”
He reaches for the front of his pants, working his belt. “In that case, if he’s gonna kill me anyway,” he drawls, striding into my cell, his limp cock in his hand. “I might as well get something out of it then.”
No. Fuck no.
Horror consumes me, and I pull against my bound wrists, the too-tight rope digging into my flesh as I throw my legs out. “Don’t fucking touch me,” I spit, kicking the fucker in the shin.
He roars in agony, but the determination in his putrid stare only strengthens, and I watch in horror as he whistles loudly, calling for help. Then as if on cue, two big men storm into my cell. They come for me, all three of them smirking like this is the best game they’ve ever played.
They hold me down as one of them pulls a knife and starts cutting my clothes off my body, the sharp tip digging into my flesh. I cry out in agony, and when my thighs are forced apart, the tears roll heavily down my cheeks.
The owner moves into me, and when he violently slams his pathetic excuse of a cock deep inside of me, all I can do is turn my head and clench my eyes, hoping and begging for the brutal torture to end.
One after the other, they take their turns, until finally it’s over.
My body is bruised and broken, covered in blood and gashes from the sharp tip of the blade. When I hear the loud clang of the metal door closing behind them, I curl into a ball, not even able to reach for the discarded remains of my clothes, and like that, I cry.
I cry for my dignity. The pain that consumes me. The violent thrusts on repeat inside my mind. Their sickening laughter. The shame. The fear. The blood that coats my skin. Their cum between my thighs that I’m unable to wipe away. The desperation for it to end.
I cry. And cry.
And I don’t stop until exhaustion claims me, and I fall into a dark pit of nothingness.
31
KILLIAN
My driver pulls up outside Chiara’s apartment complex, coming to a stop right in front of the SUV I assigned to Chiara’s security team, though they shouldn’t still be here. She should have left for work hours ago.
When she called me this afternoon, something didn’t feel right. The call only rang once, not long enough for me to answer and figure out what she needed, and when I tried to call back, the call was disconnected. It could have been put down to her emotions running wild and missing me just as desperately as I’ve missed her these past few days, but when I checked in with her security detail, no one answered. My team always answers. Something is wrong.
I’ve barely stepped out of my car before I notice the dried blood staining the sidewalk, and as sheer panic captures me in a chokehold, I look back toward the SUV parked behind mine.
It’s empty, but I’m more focused on the bullet hole that goes right through the windshield, directly through the center of where the driver would have been sitting.