El Diablo Read Online Books by M. Robinson (The Devil #1)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Billionaire, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Devil Series by M. Robinson
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Total pages in book: 161
Estimated words: 149338 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 747(@200wpm)___ 597(@250wpm)___ 498(@300wpm)
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Dark thoughts loomed in the back of my mind.

Thirty minutes later we were back at my penthouse. I carried her in the elevator, and she didn’t stir once. I tried not to let my worry for her take over, telling myself she would be fine. She was just exhausted and overwhelmed from the night’s traumatic events. Dr. Valdez checked her thoroughly, making sure she didn’t have any broken bones or any severe internal injuries.

She didn’t.

She would be sore as fuck for the next few days, but everything would fade with time and rest.

Except, her memories. Those were now a part of her forever.

Dr. Valdez injected her with a strong painkiller and a sedative to keep her comfortable. Leaving a bottle of pain medicine on the nightstand for her to take as needed. He informed me she would sleep for the next few hours or so, and wake up when she was ready. I didn’t leave her side for one fucking second.

Once he was gone, I bathed her in the bathtub, making sure to hold her head up the entire time. Running the warm water and soap over every inch of her battered body. Trying to pull the remnants of the motherfucker’s skull out of her hair. When I was finished, I lifted her up into my arms, gently drying her off, and laying her back in bed. Dressing her in some clothes that I ordered one of my men to go collect from her apartment. Along with other essentials she might want or need while she recovered.

“Are you just going to sit there, and be all you?” She gestured her hand toward me, working it up and down.

She still hadn’t even realized she was freshly clean and in her own clothing. Too consumed by the man sitting before her.

Me.

“I asked you a question, Alejandro, I expect an answer,” she ordered, pulling me away from my thoughts. Enjoying the way my name rolled off her tongue.

She had never called me that before.

I grinned behind my hand, not allowing her to see how amused I really was by her snarky little mouth.

“How did I not know that was your apartment building? And why were your men watching me?” she repeated, elaborating the same question. Jerking her head, waiting to hear my explanation. She was a feisty little thing when she wasn't getting her way, that’s for damn sure.

“You need to get some rest,” I simply stated, trying like hell to stifle my laugh.

She sighed, annoyed. “This is bullshit. You break into my apartment, and proceed to knock me fucking unconscious. Now, I’m in a room with you, in…” Her arms rose to her sides as she looked down at her body, realizing the blood was gone, she was clean. She cocked her head to the side, looking up at me. Feeling her head, running her fingers through her washed hair. “You undressed me? How did you do that? Where did my clothes come from? Oh my God, you saw me naked, didn't you?” She couldn’t get the questions to come out fast enough. “What the Hell?” she gritted, frustrated.

I didn’t falter. “Yes. Very carefully. My men collected some of your belongings from your apartment, along with other things you might need.” I leaned back into my chair, moving my hand so she could see my expression. “And it’s nothing I haven’t seen before, sweetheart.” I grinned.

Her eyes widened in disbelief, her mind spinning out of control. Not knowing what she wanted to ask me first. I wasn’t surprised when she blurted, “Are you going to hurt me?” The girl had no fucking filter.

I shook my head, trying to hide the amusement she always provided me.

“How long were you there? Did you let Nikolai hurt me?”

“You,” I declared in a husky tone, “let that piece of shit hurt you. I shot him in the fucking head… for you.”

The realization of my statement caused more turmoil, than ease. She peered around the room, avoiding my eyes. Her emotions getting the best of her, and for the second time in I don’t know how long, I resisted the urge to hold and comfort someone.

Her.

“I want to go home,” she whispered so low, I knew she didn’t want to say it.

“You’re not safe there anymore. You need to be here.”

She frowned, tears pooling in her eyes. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw a woman cry. It had been that goddamn long too. I was never around a woman long enough to give a fuck.

She bowed her head, defeated. And I hated seeing her so overcome. It wasn’t in her nature. Which only proved to me she needed to be here.

With me.

“You promise you won’t hurt me?”

“Look me in the eyes when I’m talking to you,” I instinctively ordered.

She peered up at me through her long, dark lashes. A few tears streamed down her face. She instantly wiped them away with the back of her hand not wanting me to see her looking so weak.



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