Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82439 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 412(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
I’ve been trained to maintain control, to keep my emotions at arm’s length, but the moment I cradled her in my arms, all that discipline unraveled. My mission, the real reason I’m in this mess, became a distant echo. All I could think about was getting her to safety, getting her to breathe. When she whispered my name, weak and barely audible, it tore something open inside me.
Now, as I stand here beside her, I wonder how far I’ve fallen. I’ve lied to her—more than once. And I’m going to have to lie again, keep more secrets. There’s so much I haven’t told her, so much I can’t tell her. I’ve spun my own web of deceit, but for some reason, it feels different when it’s Eva. I want to be honest with her, to tell her everything about Christopher, about the Delgados, about why I’m really here. But I can’t. Not yet.
She stands beside me, her face still bearing the faint bruises from Christopher’s attack, covered by makeup, and my fists clench involuntarily. I want to rip him apart for what he did to her, for daring to lay a hand on her. It’s a primal rage, the kind I’ve only felt a few times in my life, and it takes everything in me to keep it from bubbling to the surface.
Eva doesn’t know it, but she’s changed everything for me. She’s the reason I’ve lost sight of the mission. The reason I’m here, in this dimly lit club, playing a role I’m not even sure I want to play anymore. But I don’t regret it. I’d do it all over again just to see her safe.
“How are you, Father?” Enzo’s voice cuts through the thick tension in the room, his eyes meeting mine for a brief moment before shifting to Eva, lingering too long. It’s a leering, predatory gaze that makes my skin crawl and my blood boil. The way he looks at her—like she’s nothing more than an object, something to be devoured—sends a murderous urge through me. Every man in this room seems to have the same expression when they look at her, and it takes every ounce of restraint I have not to lash out.
I tighten my grip on Eva’s waist, pulling her closer to me, offering her whatever shield I can in this den of wolves. “Enzo,” I greet him through clenched teeth, giving a curt nod. “How are you?”
He laughs, but it’s a hollow, grating sound, as if the act of laughter is foreign to him. His eyes haven’t left Eva, and I can feel the tension radiating off her as she stiffens beside me. “I can’t wait to see the show you and this pretty little honey are going to put on for us tonight,” he sneers, the twisted smile spreading across his face making my stomach turn. “We might even video it. A little keepsake for the boys.”
Eva’s eyes widen in horror, and I can feel her trembling against me. She tries to mask it, but I know she’s terrified. I tug her even closer, a silent promise that I’ll protect her. I won’t let these bastards touch her. “You know I can’t allow a video of me,” I say, my voice low and dangerous. The weight of my words lingers, a reminder that even in this hellhole, there are limits.
Enzo’s grin widens, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Precisely,” he says, his laughter now louder, crueler. It grates on my nerves, each cackle like nails on a chalkboard. He’s playing with us, testing how far he can push, and I know I can’t give him an inch.
Eva’s grip tightens around my arm, her breathing shallow and quick. She’s scared, but she’s strong. I know she won’t break, not in front of these men. But I also know the toll this is taking on her, the fear eating away at her. It’s taking everything in me to stay calm, to not let the rage consuming me spill over. I want to tear Enzo apart for even suggesting what he did.
But I can’t. Not yet.
The low hum of the music thrums through the air, the bass a gentle, steady pulse that seems to sync with the tension in the room. The lights are dim, casting long shadows across the faces of those gathered, making it difficult to read their expressions in the flickering glow. It feels ominous, like the calm before a storm, and my nerves are on edge. Lazarus, with his imposing figure, stands at the head of the room, commanding attention as he taps his champagne glass with a large, gold ring, the sharp clink cutting through the muted conversations.
“Thank you all for coming tonight,” Lazarus begins, his deep voice resonating through the space. He pauses, letting the silence settle before continuing. “As many of you know, times are critical now. We need to be vigilant in our duties.” His eyes sweep across the room, and I can feel the weight of his words sinking into the people around us. There’s an unease beneath the surface, like everyone knows something I don’t.