Total pages in book: 123
Estimated words: 114584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114584 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 573(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
When we reach the sleek black SUV, Marcus opens the door. Turning around, his eyes fall on Elena, who is still struggling like a cat on my shoulder, her ass cheeks jiggling beside my face. Rage fills my veins, and I forget for a moment that Markus is my ally.
“Look at her again, and I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.”
Most men cower in fear when I make a threat like that because everyone knows that when I make a threat, it’s not just a threat, it’s a promise. Markus is not most men, though, he takes in my words and gives me a respectful nod. If I didn’t know him better, I could have sworn his lips twitched up into a smile.
Fucker.
I put her down on her feet but grab her arm before she can make a run for it. Her feistiness only makes me want her more. She covers her chest with her free arm, trying to hide her tits covered only by the thin material. She’s beautifully naive, and the fact that she’s even trying to maintain an ounce of modesty in this situation proves that.
I give her a quick once over. Her soft shapely legs that I picture wrapped around my waist are on full display, her small body shaking like a leaf either from cold or fear… maybe both. She’s short, shorter than I remember her being, and fragile, so very breakable. My gaze moves over her delicate throat, which bobs as she swallows.
Her heart-shaped face is red, and her green eyes are puffy from crying. That raven hair of hers is a tangled damp mess. Still, she is the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. Beautiful and all-fucking-mine.
“Get in,” I order.
She merely shakes her head. I stare down at her, knowing full well I’ll never be able to hurt her like I’ve hurt others who disobey me, she is the only person who will ever have my mercy. Though there are other ways of disciplining her.
Pinching her chin gently between two fingers, I force her not only to hear the words I’m saying but also for her to see me speak them.
“Do it, or I do it for you, and believe me, you don’t want me to do it.”
Her emerald eyes widen with fear, and she must be able to hear the threat in my voice because her body starts shaking furiously. Pulling away, she reluctantly climbs into the car, sliding across the backseat, going to the spot furthest away. There is ample room between us, and I decide to let her have this small space, giving her a sense of control since I just took most of that away from her. I should probably feel bad about how I ripped her from her father’s hands, uprooted her without warning from the only home she’s ever known.
A good man would feel terrible, but the truth is I’m too selfish to feel any remorse. All I feel is a sense of accomplishment. I’ve waited for a long time, watching as the Romero family struggled to stay afloat.
“Where are we going?” Elena surprises me with her meek voice, and I look over at her. She’s all doe eyes and innocence. Breaking her will be a crushing blow to her father.
“Home.”
She wraps her slender arms around her torso like she is hugging herself before turning away from me again to stare out of the window. Her small body trembles, and I can make out goosebumps on her creamy smooth skin.
“Turn up the heat, Markus.”
“Got it, boss.”
For the rest of the drive home, we sit silently—only the engine’s sound and the occasional sob filling the cab.
By the time we pull to the compound, I’m sweating profusely under my three-piece suit. Markus must have turned up the heat to well over a hundred degrees. As soon as Markus opens the door, I slip out of the car.
The fresh air cools me, and I inhale a harsh breath into my lungs. Turning around, I’m prepared for a fight, or at least a struggle and am pleasantly surprised to find Elena sitting on the edge of the seat waiting to get out.
Maybe this won’t be as hard as I had assumed it would be.
Eyes cast down, she wrings her hands in her lap nervously. Sliding off the seat, her small feet press against the gravel, and I contemplate picking her up to carry her inside when she winces at the contact. I love how fragile she is and how much I know she’ll need me to make it through everything I have in store for her. When I’m done with her, she will rely on me for every single thing she wants or needs.
Obviously, I’m far too trusting because she slips past me like a small mouse. Breaking off into a dead run, she dashes past the car and down the driveway. I’m not worried, though, since there isn’t anywhere for her to go.