Total pages in book: 139
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126522 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 633(@200wpm)___ 506(@250wpm)___ 422(@300wpm)
What the fuck just happened? Screw the asshole and his fucking cheap ass wine. There’s no way in hell that I’m about to go back down there. The boys be damned. They’re on their own now.
18
Watching Giovanni DeAngelis’ entourage driving away from the big-ass gothic castle from the top level window is the highlight of my fucking life.
I don’t think I’ve ever hated someone so fiercely, not even his cruel sons when they were chasing me through the maze garden and haunting me through the hallways of the dark cells with their fucking wolves.
Giovanni DeAngelis is pure evil, and I can’t wait to be the one who gets to put him down like the fucking dog that he is. Well, at least that’s the dream that’s going to keep me going. Judging from his sons’ reaction to his very presence in their home, I’d dare say that it’ll be a race to the finish line.
Anger pulses through my veins, and the moment I know the coast is clear, I throw my new bedroom door wide open and march my ass downstairs, more than aware of the shit storm that’s brewing inside of me.
I find the three fucklords standing in the foyer of their enormous castle. Marcus holds a whole bottle of bourbon in his hands while Levi is sophisticated enough to use a glass. Roman on the other hand holds nothing but a horrendous scowl, one that could rival his father’s.
“Your father is a fucking asshole,” I spit through a clenched jaw as I stare at the three brothers hovering in the foyer. “No wonder you three turned out so bad.”
Each one of them glares at me, and for a moment, I’m frozen on the step. Their glares are sharp enough to cut glass and instantly remind me where my place in all of this is. Roman strides toward me, stopping right in front of me. “I asked you one simple thing,” he growls. “Keep your fucking mouth shut.”
I swallow hard. Maybe I should have given them a little more time before racing down here.
His stare is full of rage, but something tells me that it’s directed at his father. “What the hell was I supposed to do? He insulted me, practically called me worthless trash after stripping me bare and humiliating me. He deserves a fucking bullet between his eyes for the way he treated me.”
Roman narrows his stare, his jaw clenching as that nasty scar calls to me, daring me to push him just a little bit further. “You’re lucky that you didn’t get one between yours,” he fires back at me, reaching toward Marcus and tearing the bottle of bourbon right out of his hands. “Next time you speak out of line and make me look incompetent in front of my father, there won’t be anyone standing around to stop me from pulling the trigger.”
He steps around me and stalks across the hall before turning into the informal living space. A loud grunt and the sound of shattering glass startles me.
Marcus groans. “Fuck, there goes the rest of my lunch.”
“Why do you guys put up with that shit?” I ask.
Levi walks past me, sipping at his tumbler of brown liquid. “Don’t worry about Roman. He gets like this after all of Father’s visits. He’ll calm down in a bit.”
“I don’t mean Roman,” I say, turning on my heel and following him as Marcus steps in beside me. “I’ve heard all the stories, all the things that you guys are capable of, yet you allow your father to walk all over you. I just … I don’t get it. Why haven’t you done something about it yet? It’s not like you guys have a moral compass or anything. What does he have on you?”
Marcus meets my gaze and shakes his head. “It ain’t as easy as it sounds, princess.”
“I’m no fucking princess.”
“Don’t I know it,” he mutters darkly, his eyes flashing with the memory of my bound wrists and the heavy chain holding me up off the ground as he fucked me so hard that I could feel exactly where he’d been for days.
I swallow hard, averting my eyes as the reminder of the night has heat flooding deep inside of me, only his calloused hand gently pressing against my cheek pulls me up short.
I stop in the middle of the hallway, turning to meet his heavy stare, only he doesn’t say a damn word, but he doesn’t have to. It’s all there in his eyes as a rare flicker of emotion pulses through him. Roman’s comments in the dining room come rushing back to me—he’s forming an attachment, and while the thought of a guy like him having any sort of feelings toward me is terrifying, that small attachment, whatever it may be, might just be the reason that I somehow live through this.