Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
I raise my eyebrows. “Oh? Has he called in?”
“Of course not. I’m not stupid, Santos.”
“I hope he hasn’t disappeared like Father. You do have a knack for making people disappear, don’t you?” Camilla asks in a sickly-sweet tone that grates on my nerves.
“I learned from the best,” I tell her.
She flips me off.
“Well, if you could let Thiago know I came to see him when he’s back, I would appreciate it.”
Bea is twirling a long strand of hair around her finger. I always wondered about her. Despite knowing exactly the kind of man her husband was, she was devoted to him in a strange, unnatural way. They had a dynamic between them that was pure hatred at its core, but neither was willing to let the other go, as if the other’s suffering took precedence over their own happiness. I never understood it. I saw with my own eyes how he treated her and she knew well how many women he took to his bed.
I also saw what happened to those he was particularly fond of once his wife got wind of it.
Bea Avery grins, and I wonder if my face gives away my revulsion at the memory of what she is capable of. “Camilla, see Santos out.”
“Yes, Mother,” Camilla says, standing. She hates her mother, but she’s also afraid of her. I think that fear and Thiago are the only two things that keep the little psychopath in line.
“I can see myself out.”
As if she doesn’t hear, Camilla steps toward me, standing too close. She smiles, then slides her hand into mine. When I take mine away, she weaves her arm through mine and holds tight as she leads me out of the living room and down the hallway toward the front door. Her familiar perfume is cloyingly sweet, and I hold my breath because it reminds me too much of the past. Of my life when I lived with this family. Of the kind of man I became during those years.
Just before we get to the front door, though, she turns to another that a guard is standing in front of, and she nods to him to open it. He does.
I raise my eyebrows.
“I don’t want to be interrupted, understood?” she tells him in a tone that is neither bratty nor at all like her usual tone. I study Camilla Avery, wondering how the power dynamics of the family will shift now that Thiago is gone.
“What do you want, Camilla?” I ask when she closes the door and we’re alone in a small library.
She lets her gaze move over me, then brushes non-existent lint off my shoulder. “You look good, Santos. You’re aging well.”
I roll my eyes. “Good to hear. Now if you’ll excuse me.” I head toward the door.
“I know where he was going,” she says.
I glance back, keeping my expression more amused than anything else. “Excuse me?”
“Your wife is pretty,” she starts as soon as she knows she has my attention. She crosses the room to plop herself casually down onto an oversized armchair. She slings her long legs over one arm and lets one spiked heeled shoe hang off her toes. “Do you fuck her, or do you let your brother do that like you used to with the gifts Daddy sent you?”
Gifts.
Women.
Human beings.
But this family has never been bothered by such distinctions. I know one of the reasons being around them impacts me so viscerally is that for a time, I became like them… and that’s a terrifying thing to see in oneself.
I narrow my gaze, my jaw tightening, but I don’t respond. She knows I never fucked any of the women her father sent as my rewards. She also knows that Caius did. Camilla always had a way of finding things out, almost like she had her own spy system all those years. I wonder if we all didn’t underestimate her.
“I hope you don’t mind my asking. I’m so curious.” She lets her gaze slide suggestively over me.
“You’re out of line.”
“Am I? It’s just a question. You know I used to wonder if you couldn’t get it up, but then I’d hear you some nights.” I should walk out. “Choking the life out of your dick when I’d happily have pleasured you with my mouth. Or any other hole.”
I try to hide my surprise at her crudeness, which is so opposite the perfect good-girl look she has going on. “My dick would have shriveled up and died once your poison tongue touched it. Excuse me.”
“I bet she likes taking it from him,” she says innocently. “Do you watch?”
I’ve just put my hand on the doorknob, and although I should know better, although every instinct is to walk away, I react. Because something about the thought of Caius touching Madelena makes me fucking insane. Before she can utter another word, I’m on her, and have her on her feet, my hand around her throat.