Illicit Obsession (King of Ruin #2) Read Online Julia Sykes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, BDSM, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: King of Ruin Series by Julia Sykes
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Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38835 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 194(@200wpm)___ 155(@250wpm)___ 129(@300wpm)
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“I’m okay, Evelyn,” I promised. “I’ve got you. I’m not going anywhere.”

She placed her hand over mine, pressing it tighter to her chest. “They wanted to take me to George,” she murmured, the pained admission barely audible. “They said they didn’t care what condition I was in.”

Fury surged, and I barely managed to keep the murderous tension from gripping my muscles. The sight of Evelyn’s horror tore at my insides. Crawford would die screaming.

“He will never get to you,” I vowed.

“I loved him,” she admitted, her voice shaking. “I was going to marry him. I thought he was a good man.” She squeezed her eyes shut, as though she was trying to trap her tears and prevent them from spilling over.

A sense of powerlessness I’d never known before hollowed out my chest. Her distress shredded me like nothing else. He’d done this to her. He’d betrayed this sweet, trusting angel. She looked shattered: my broken little butterfly.

“How could I be so stupid?” she asked on a strained whisper, her eyes still closed.

Anger tightened my jaw, but I managed to force out through gritted teeth, “You’re not stupid. He lied to you. He never deserved you.”

“It doesn’t feel real,” she admitted. “This can’t be happening.”

I cupped her pale cheek. “Look at me.” Her lovely eyes snapped to mine, dark with pain. “You’re with me now. I’ve got you, no matter what. You have a good heart, farfallina. Don’t let him take that from you.”

I hardened my resolve. I wouldn’t fucking allow it. No matter what it took, I would shield her from further harm. She would never lose the innocence I coveted, the kind soul that I craved to possess. I wanted her sweet devotion all for myself, and I wouldn’t allow that motherfucker to diminish her spirit. Evelyn had an inner strength that I’d seen many times. That bastard wouldn’t crush it. He wouldn’t take one more damn thing from this perfect woman.

A knock on the door to the suite distracted me, and I immediately broke contact, rushing to let the doctor in. As soon as the thin, dark-haired man appeared in the doorway, I stepped back to hurry him to the bedroom.

“She was unconscious when I found her,” I told him, the words a low growl as fury surged once again. I clenched my teeth to reign in my anger, struggling to shove it down so that I could remain calm for her. “I don’t know how long she was out.”

The man seemed to understand that I prioritized Evelyn over my own more obvious injuries. Or maybe it was the murderous rage that still lingered in my taut muscles that warned him not to contradict me.

She sat up on the bed, her gaze sharpening on my bloody face. “You’re the one who was unconscious,” she countered. “I was just disoriented for a minute. I really am okay.”

“They hurt you,” I ground out, my patience wearing thin. “Tell me what happened.”

Her chin tipped back in that defiant posture that both irritated and enticed me. For now, irritation won out. This wasn’t the time for a sensual power play, not when her health was at risk.

“Tell me what they did,” I bit out, crossing my arms over my chest. The doctor was already at her side, ready to assess her for unseen injuries.

She huffed out a breath, capitulating. “I’ll tell you, but you have to get checked out as soon as he confirms I’m fine.” She nodded in the direction of the doctor.

“Evelyn…” I imbued her name with warning, a threat of consequences if she didn’t comply immediately.

She turned her attention to the doctor. “They took me out of the SUV and put me in a van. I struggled, so one of them hit me. Things went hazy for a minute. The next thing I knew, Massimo was driving me away from the fight.”

I was grateful that she hadn’t witnessed the violence in the van, but concern for her far outweighed my relief.

“Where were you hit?” the doctor asked, calm and methodical as he began to gingerly inspect her scalp.

She gestured to the right side of her head. When he applied light pressure to the spot, she winced.

I was at her side in an instant, wrapping my hand around hers in a pulse of comfort. That sense of helplessness gnawed at me, the sensation maddening. I couldn’t bear to see her in pain.

“You’ll have a bit of a bump there for a little while, but there’s no bleeding,” the doctor said, cool and clinical. He turned his brown gaze on me, clearly sensing that I was the one who needed reassurance. “She’ll be fine.”

My gaze raked over her body, assessing her for other injuries. Red marks marred her upper arms: violence imprinted on her creamy skin. The bastards had dragged her away from me. She’d fought to get back to me. She’d screamed for me.



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