Total pages in book: 266
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 250787 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1254(@200wpm)___ 1003(@250wpm)___ 836(@300wpm)
“He already shares her with you.” Adam’s father shrugs. “You make her your Lady, and you can do whatever you want with her. Hell, let them all fuck her if that makes you feel better. Line ’em up.”
“I think I’m going to vomit,” Adam whispers, running a hand down his face.
“The answer is no,” I grind out. How many ways do I have to say it?
“Haidyn,” my father growls. “This is serious. You may have refused Ashtyn as your chosen, but she will be your wife.”
“I’m not taking her as a Lady,” I shout. He’s got to be out of his mind.
“There is a bigger picture here,” Adam’s father snaps. “And we have made sure things are in order for the future of Carnage.”
“I don’t give a fuck about this place,” I argue.
My father throws a glass of bourbon across the room, and it shatters against the wall. “Goddammit…”
“I won’t do that to Saint.” I shake my head.
“This has nothing to do with Saint. It has to do with you and what we’ve set up for all of you.”
“I don’t want her.”
“Do you think I wanted your mother?” he snaps. “Do you think I wanted you?” Pointing at me, he adds, “She was worthless, and you’re nothing more than a disappointment.”
His opinions about my mother and me aren’t new. I’ve never been the son that he wanted—easy to manipulate—and she couldn’t give him more.
Sighing, he runs a hand down his face.
Adam’s father speaks, “She is the one you will marry. We’ll set it up. It needs to be sooner rather than later.”
Adam spins around. “Dad—”
“And if you refuse, we’ll force you both.”
Adam steps toward his father, but I grab his shirt and yank him back. “Do what you have to do,” I say and turn to walk out, dragging Adam behind me.
“If she loves Saint as much as you say he loves her, she’ll come around to the idea of being your Lady real quick,” my father speaks, but I ignore him.
I yank the door open and slam it shut.
“What the fuck, Haidyn?” Adam snaps at me, ripping his shirt from my hold. “Why the fuck didn’t you tell me they wanted you to take Ashtyn as your chosen?”
We get into the elevator, and I turn to face him. “Are you fucking serious? You’ve been running around…being secretive ever since we met with that detective. Fuck, Adam, I can barely get you to answer your goddamn phone. Let alone fill you in on my life,” I shout, pushing the button for the basement.
He steps in front of me, and I bow my chest. “What are you going to do? How the fuck do we stop this?”
“I tell Saint.” Give him a heads-up and we get ahead of it.
“No.” He shakes his head. “He can’t find out.”
“Are you fucking serious? Did you not just hear what they said? They’re going to use him. To make her be my Lady. We have to tell him.”
“I’ll—”
“Shut the fuck up,” I whisper, my eyes avoiding the camera in the elevator. They are probably listening to everything we’re saying. “Fill me in later.”
That was the last time I saw Adam before Tyson’s phone call to Saint, and we had to go save her from her parents’ house. Adam was on the run, and we were keeping her hidden. Our fathers’ plans for her changed. We either made her a prisoner or Saint took her in as his—initiating her—which got them all off my back about making her my Lady.
CHARLOTTE
He's taking a shower when I walk by and head to his restroom. I no longer have any dignity or shyness around him. Living with a man changes that. I woke up an hour ago and ate the breakfast that he had fixed for me in awkward silence while he worked in his office. He didn’t bring up the fact that he drugged me for answers, and I didn’t ask any questions as to why he wanted to know those things.
After I finish, I start to wash my hands and then turn to face him as he stands in the middle of the rain shower. It’s in the corner up against the far wall but has no glass or doors. It looks like he’s standing in the middle of a downpour, running his hands through his hair as the water falls from the ceiling.
When I watched him sleep earlier this morning in bed, that was the first time I ever got to see him naked, and what a sight it was. He’s covered in ink, muscles, and scars. I saw where he had been shot and where I stabbed him. The ones on his back are harder to see, they’re long and skinny—like he was whipped. I wonder who did it to him? Was it his father trying to teach him that women mean nothing? It wouldn’t surprise me. But men like Haidyn don’t like to talk about what they’ve been through, so I pretended not to see them.