Total pages in book: 41
Estimated words: 36950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 36950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 185(@200wpm)___ 148(@250wpm)___ 123(@300wpm)
Not me.
Not ever.
Devlin might have been a cruel Master, but I got stronger when I fell on my knees for him. I learned that I could endure things I never imagined and fight harder than I ever thought possible. I gave in because underneath the layers of Devlin’s malice was the boy I fell in love with--the one I always wanted. I didn’t have that desire to feel Connor’s hands on my body. If my survival was guaranteed, I could keep fighting. Maybe I would still draw my last breath hanging from his ropes, but I wouldn’t do it willingly.
“Devlin…” I let out a light sigh and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth.
His blood. Blood he sacrificed in pursuit of me. He was searching. He hadn’t given up. I knew him well enough to know that he would go to the ends of the Earth to find me. It was the kind of man he was. If his search led him to Connor then he was on the right track.
“I’m sorry I left you…” I felt what would have been tears if my eyes had the ability to cry--if my body had those resources to spare.
I was going to be in the Devil’s arms again. His blood was evidence--a testament to his devotion. Connor wanted to scare me with it, but I wasn’t afraid of him. My sister lied to me. She spewed Connor’s instructions with no regard for what would happen if I followed them. I didn’t know if what I overheard when Devlin was on the phone was real, or another one of his twisted games. Maybe he had no intentions of actually selling me--Connor wouldn’t have taken me if it was that easy to make a deal.
Survive.
That was my mission.
Long enough for Devlin to find me, or long enough to make my escape.
Maybe they were one in the same...
Five
Devlin
The headache from the blow I'd taken from Peterson's guards was still there, but it didn't hurt nearly as much as my pride.
Peterson may have won a battle, but the war was far from over. I had another ace up my sleeve, and even though the poor fuck was behind bars, I knew he could be useful to me.
I sat in the uncomfortable, dingy plastic chair of the prison, waiting for Cabot to arrive. My eyes wandered over the visitors, the prisoners. This was a shitty place to be stuck in, and I knew Cabot didn't have it easy. I felt sorry for him.
He was brought in, his wrists in handcuffs, and when he saw me, his top lip peeled back in disgust.
"I don't want to talk," he muttered as a guard showed him to his seat opposite of me at the plastic desk. There was only glass separating us.
He looks terrible. His skin is sallow and pale, with bruises blooming along his jawline and spreading under his prison uniform. My eyes roam over his beaten body up to his face, seeing how he looks at me. Cabot's gaze is filled with disgust. He detests me.
I motioned for Hugo to pick up the phone, but he shook his head vehemently. Stubborn old bastard. I picked up the receiver on my end anyway, mouthing the only word that would make him pick up the receiver on his side of the glass.
Violet.
Cabot only hesitated for a split second before picking up. He kept staring at me, eyes filled with anger as they met mine. "What do you want, Windsor?"
His voice crackled over the line and for a second, I couldn't help but feel sorry for the poor fuck. But I had more pressing matters to deal with.
I clutched the phone handle and asked, loud and clear, "What do you know about Georgia's husband, Connor Peterson?"
Hugo Cabot glared at me through the impenetrable glass. If looks could kill... Luckily for me, Hugo was powerless here. Just as powerless as I felt going up against his son-in law.
"Please," I went on. "This is important."
"Important?" he glared at me. "How could my son-in-law be important right now?"
"Violet," I went on. "Violet is-"
"Don't you dare say her name!" Hugo beat his fist against the glass a single time, earning a yell from the guard and sheepishly sitting back in his chair. His hate-filled eyes went back to mine, digging deep, as if he wanted to uncover every one of my secrets. "I know what you've done, you pervert. I know what you've been doing to my sweet Violet."
I smirked. "Nothing she didn't want."
"You're sick," he spat out. "When I get out of this hellhole - and believe me, I'll be out soon - I'm leaving the door wide fucking open for you, Windsor. I have no doubt they'll put me right the fuck back after I'm done with you. After I make you pay for what you've done to my innocent daughter."