Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66980 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 335(@200wpm)___ 268(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
For a long moment, he invades my space, but I don’t fight back. Instead, I sit quietly, a small smile quirking my lips as he regards me with a penetrating stare. His mouth is inches from mine, the minty warmth of his breath has my tongue darting out to wet my lips. For a split second, his gaze drops to watch the movement.
My stomach twists with need.
Desire coils in my gut, low in my belly, until I’m squirming on my seat.
“Now,” Judah says, “Be a good girl and sit quietly so I can finish my work. I don’t enjoy being interrupted.”
He pushes away from me, leaving me feeling cold and alone, and a shiver snakes its way through every inch of me.
Without him close by, I feel empty.
As if I’ve been cast aside.
It might sound stupid after what he said to me, what he called me, but my chest tightens as the car drives through the streets while he focuses on his phone.
I cast a glance out of the window, taking in the route as we head for the airstrip, and I wish with everything I have that my father would’ve just fought back. If he hadn’t allowed guilt to eat away at him, I would be home right now.
But as we pull up to the private plane and come to a stop, I’m convinced home is a place I’ll never know again.
We exit the vehicle, the driver assisting me while Judah saunters in front. When we reach the steps, he halts his movements, then glances at me from over his shoulder. Those snake-like eyes lock on me.
His lips tilt before he says, “Welcome to the darkness.”
THE TRUTH HURTS
BRIELLE
As the plane descends, taking me to my new home, I allow myself to wonder what life is going to be like. There’s no doubt in my mind, going forward, there will be darkness, danger, and violence. Even though I’ve only ever heard rumours about the island, the university, and the students, it’s as if I’ve been there before.
The moment the plane door opens, Judah is on his feet, looming over me with a look of thunder on his stupidly handsome face. He says nothing for a long while, merely taking me in.
“Time to meet the welcome committee,” he informs me in a cold, detached tone.
This time, his mouth is curled in a sinister smirk. His full lips are distracting when he wets them, and I hate how attractive I find him. The pinkness of his tongue holds my attention as it slowly glides along the seam of his mouth, and I can’t help the lust that heats my blood.
“I don’t need a welcome committee,” I retort, as I glare at him while I push to my feet. “I’m capable of finding my own way round.”
My stubbornness is going to get me into trouble, I know it will, but I can’t stop myself from goading him. My father always warned me about talking back, especially in our world. The mafia can’t abide women speaking their mind. It’s not how things are done. But my defence mechanism is to give back as good as I get.
Judah lifts one shoulder in a shrug. “What you want, sweetheart, and what you get are two totally different things,” he mutters before leaving me on the aircraft and disappearing through the door.
When I reach the bottom of the metal staircase, Judah has already gone and I’m met by four guys all dressed in black. One of them is wearing a hoodie—the hood of which hides his hair from view and is pulled down just enough to cover one of his eyes. But the other eye is visible and locked on me. The stark blue that greets me is alarming—it’s almost silver.
I take in the other three men, all looking at me as if they’ve never seen a woman before. But when I meet the gaze of the one on the far left of the group, my heart stalls for a few seconds. The gold of his eyes is softer than mine but still as intense as when I look in the mirror.
“Who are you?” The whispered question that falls from my lips is full of shock and awe.
Even as I ask, I already know. When we were in the office in Calabria, I recall Judah mentioning something about a brother, but I thought he was making things up to anger me. However, the young man in front of me is clearly related to my father, which inadvertently means he’s related to me. My mouth opens, but I can’t find the words to say anything to him, because even though he resembles my father, he’s a stranger to me.
“So, this is the gift Judah’s dad left for him?” the hooded figure says with a slight chuckle. He steps forward, pushing the material away from his eyes, and I’m swept up in the sea of blue. “Not bad at all.” He tips his head to the side, assessing me as if I’m a possession to be sold, to be bartered. I suppose I am.