Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 74620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 74620 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 373(@200wpm)___ 298(@250wpm)___ 249(@300wpm)
I hold the strings to her life, and if she fears anyone, it should be me.
“And you thought not telling your father about your fucking drug dealer boyfriend would be a good idea?” My voice is calm; yet, she can tell from the underlying rage coursing through me that I’m not happy about learning this tidbit of information from Javier only seconds before I stood in her room. “I came in here to talk, to give you a chance to release your father, but if you continue lying to me, juguete…”
My words taper off, but that only opens the door for her to fist her tiny hands. The action is adorable, and I almost want to laugh, almost. Her big eyes pierce me with challenge, with anger, with everything she’s feeling, and I’m tempted to pin her to the bed and fuck her senseless.
However, I don’t expect the words to fall from her lips the moment I take a step toward her. “What? What are you going to do with your plaything, Victor? Are you going to kill me? Then do it! I’m dying anyway.”
We both still at her outburst. Me, because I don’t want to acknowledge the fact that she’s ill. And she is frozen because she’s finally admitted it. I knew she’s never actually voiced the words. It’s not something a sane person would want to tell themselves.
I’m dying anyway.
Those three words, so powerful in admission, yet so difficult to utter. I’ve seen men die before me, I’ve taken their lives, basked in the control I had over how many breaths they take, but this… This is something else. The thought of Sofía closing her eyes and never waking again causes my chest to ache in a way I’ve never felt.
I’ve only ever loved one woman. A long time ago. She was everything. I wanted to marry her, to make her a Cordero, mark her, claim her, put a fucking ring on her finger, and then I walked in while she was bouncing on one of my men’s dicks.
The house is silent as I saunter through the living room. I thought Gaia would be home, but there aren’t any lights on, and there’s no music playing. When she’s home alone, I know she enjoys singing along to whatever playlist she has on the stereo.
I make my way through the kitchen, finding nothing but a plate that’s been swiped clean. Picking it up, I place it in the sink and turn for the stairs. That’s when I hear the sound. It’s slight, but I have the hearing of a fucking predator.
Pulling my gun from the holster that’s secured on my shoulder, I cock it, ensuring it’s loaded. Silently, I head upstairs, taking one step at a time. The closer I get to the top, the louder the sounds are. It’s not music, perhaps Gaia is watching television. Some fucking soap opera. But it’s only when I reach the door to the guest bedroom that I hear the moaning. That’s certainly more pornographic sounding than the shows she usually watches on tv.
I reach for the handle, twisting it slowly, ensuring that the movement is silent. The wooden surface inches inward, and I find the source of the moans and grunts. The long flowing dark hair of the woman I was about to propose to hangs down her back in chocolate waves.
Her bare torso moves up and down, and with every whimper and mewl, she moves faster, riding the dick beneath her. I know her moves, I’ve seen them firsthand, but now it’s as if I’m having an out of body experience.
I step into the space, and the asshole’s shocked gaze latches on me. He shoves the woman I love to the mattress, swiftly attempting to move off the bed. But he’s too slow. I’m a fucking hunter, and when I’m out for the kill, I ensure my prey doesn’t escape.
Lifting the gun, I aim the barrel toward the naked figure. Gaia is screaming, begging me to stop, but all I see is red. Blood. My finger tugs on the trigger, again and again. With every bullet hole I puncture through the asshole’s back, the less enraged I feel.
When he’s on the floor, lying in a pool of blood, I turn to her. “Get the fuck out before I do the same to you.” My voice isn’t mine. It’s dark, low, and dangerous. I sound like Satan himself. And I smile, when she glares at me in fury.
“What the fuck is your problem? You fuck—”
That’s when I pull the trigger. Her body crumples to the floor as she screeches, holding her cunt as the blood pours from it. “Next time you get a dick inside that hole, you’ll remember me.”
That’s when I turn and leave her on the floor.
That was the last time I ever allowed a woman to control me.