Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 650(@200wpm)___ 520(@250wpm)___ 433(@300wpm)
Her pain made me ten times harder.
A hundred times more desperate.
A thousand times more violent.
I crippled beneath images of taking her again.
I trembled with the need for more.
I wanted her tears, and blood, and screams—
Stop.
Spitting out a mouthful of bile, I sucked in a tattered breath.
The moment I’d sunk inside Ily, I’d come face to face with the awful knowledge that loneliness might be the cross I’d carried my entire life, but it’d also been the only thing keeping me in-line.
If I let myself even think about caring for her, the monster inside me roared.
Victor thought I had a crush?
Fuck no, I had an obsession.
I wanted to flay her alive and tear her into pieces.
Not because of the animal inside me, but because the man had finally tasted togetherness, and now he was fucking starving.
How long could I stay human?
How long before I broke?
A day?
A week?
An hour?
As long as it takes.
You last as long as it takes.
As the retching subsided, I stood and shoved my face under the icy water. I wished the shower could rinse my mind free from filth, but no matter how cold the water or how many frosty needles hit my face, I couldn’t get Ily out of my mind.
I craved her.
Needed her.
While she was mine, my loneliness faded just a little.
While Victor smirked and seduced me with his slaves and secrets, I dabbled with the idea of what if?
What if I never went back?
What if Q never welcomed me into his family?
What if I always remained alone out there when I could finally be someone in here?
I’d bought a stake in Ily’s wellbeing.
I owned her body and soul.
I didn’t have to tell Q where we were.
If I did, he’d take her away from me.
He’d set her free.
He’d shove me right back into the dark and everlasting emptiness.
Perhaps Victor was right. Maybe I felt things for Ily because I’d hunted and caught her on the last night of my humanity. Maybe my downfall into monster-hood was inevitable, and I should just stop fighting and give in.
Even if I found a way to get the GPS coordinates to Q and he slaughtered them all, that still didn’t treat the disease inside me. I could move to France and inherit a brother, but really…I would always have these urges. Always have this sickness. Always be trapped and alone and hurting.
Merde.
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I slid down the wall and sat on the shower floor.
I can’t…I can’t keep pretending.
Faking shit out there and faking shit in here.
I didn’t even know who I was anymore. Didn’t think I’d ever known because I’d been too shit-scared to be honest.
You could just stay here.
Keep Q’s money.
Keep her.
A blanket of calmness fell.
For a few seconds, I chose that path and felt peace.
I’d give anything to just…be me.
Unapologetically, authentically me.
And if that meant I was the villain, then…
Sighing heavily, I wrapped my arms around my knees. Water kept raining. Thoughts kept racing. Guts kept churning.
I didn’t know what I wanted anymore, but I couldn’t go back down there. I couldn’t face her. Couldn’t pretend to be the good guy for her and the bad guy for everyone else.
Not yet.
I needed time.
Time to remember that this wasn’t about me. This wasn’t meant to be a cure for my stupid rejected heart. This was about them. The men and women who’d been stolen and enslaved.
As long as I put them first, I could stay in the light.
As long as Ily didn’t fight me, I could stay good.
Live or die.
Love or loneliness.
My fate was decided the moment my mother gave birth to a monster.
One of these days, someone would put me down.
And when that day came, I wouldn’t have to struggle anymore.
I could rest.
Alone.
Always alone.
Forever…
Chapter Eighteen
………………………….
Ily
I SAT CROSS-LEGGED ON THE curved balcony as the sun sank, slowly committing suicide into the ocean. Its fiery colours of reds, oranges, and gold-gilded peaches extinguished under a cloak of navy as day became night, and Henri still didn’t summon me.
The grounds below slowly vanished as shadows swallowed neat paths, hedges, fountains, and gazebos. The men who’d dotted the lawn with their unfortunate slaves made their way inside, commanding their jewels to follow. As the gardens emptied, the bedroom behind me grew louder as girls and boys returned to wash away cum, blood, and sweat.
Occasionally, someone laughed, somehow finding humour in this cesspit. A part of me wanted to join them, but most of me craved to be alone.
I stayed where I was.
The cool evening air caressed the fine hairs on the back of my arms, making me shiver.
I’d showered and dressed in the only loungewear available in the walk-in wardrobe: another sheer dressing gown like the one I’d worn when Peter took me to the gardens for the first time. Unlike the periwinkle blue of this morning, this one glowed with rose gold, the lace around the hem and collar a gorgeous alabaster white.