Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
Okay, that’s not the actual plan, but it's one of the many endings I've envisioned for him over the years. Now that it's finally time, I'm nervous. Not for myself since I haven't been able to protect myself properly in years. No, for Bel.
If she somehow gets hurt in the crossfire, I'm not sure I can live with myself. She's an intricate part of the plan, a way to put my father at ease. A way to ensure everyone but my father walks out of that room alive.
I swallow down my emotions and remind myself one last time that I’m doing this for us. Then I hike her unconscious body up a little higher and carry her down the stairs. I’m near the door when I spot Lee in the kitchen, a bottle of his alcohol of choice halfway to his lips. His gaze darts between me and Bel’s face, and I can’t miss the concern that appears in his eyes.
"Should I even ask?”
"No, you shouldn't. The less you know, the better."
His eyes narrow as he takes in the scene. "Since you assholes have been exceedingly anti-social and don't tell Aries or me anything, how can we help?"
"I don't want your help," I bite out, only realizing a few seconds too late how it sounds. But I don't have time to soothe his temper.
“Whatever, be that way, but know that if something happens to her, that’s on you. This might be our own shit hole of lives, but we don’t have to drag those we care about into the pits of darkness with us.”
"Look, I’m sorry. I’ll explain as soon as I can. I’ll be back later… If—if I'm not, then you need to step up for The Mill."
“You know Sebastian is next in line.”
I say nothing because the less he knows, the better.
"What are you planning to do, Drew?”
I shake my head and walk out the door to the car my father sent over for us. I cradle Bel’s sleeping body in my lap, breathing her scent in, wishing I could take this moment and encapsulate it forever. It’s short-lived, of course, since we get to the house faster than I'm ready for. Bel shifts in her sleep and every twitch makes me fear she'll wake too early. At the house, the driver opens the door, and I step out, quickly clasping Bel to my chest so he doesn't get any ideas about taking her.
She's far too light as I carry her inside, reminding me of how fragile she is in this whole thing. Even though I don’t want to, I take her straight into my father's study as he instructed me. When I enter, he looks up from his desk, the double doors of the office slamming against the walls behind me.
His desk sits across the room, his back to a bank of windows, shelves line the opposite end of the room crammed with books I’m pretty sure he’s never touched. An antique rug stretches the length of the room with a large leather couch, end table, and lamp near it. There’s a bar built into a shelf near his desk, and he’s cleared something out just beyond the doors. I stop dead and stare at the open space. “What’s this?”
He waves at the empty space. “I moved some things around so we’ll have room for your wedding guests.”
He’s fucking delusional, so I don’t even bother asking about the guests comment. His beady eyes scan me from head to toe, and I try to keep any lick of emotion off my face. Any show is something he can use against me, and he’s taken enough as it is.
"Well, shit, Son. I didn’t think you had the balls.”
Of course he didn’t.
“I told you I was going to do it.”
“I understand that. I’m just impressed. Not only did you stick to the plan but you got her here in one piece. Maybe there is potential in you after all.”
I watch him cautiously as he walks around the desk straight toward me. There’s a crystal glass of whiskey in his hand, the brown liquid near the brim. Great, he’s drinking. I try to do my best to hide my response to the way his eyes move over her limp form, almost hungrily. "She is rather pretty when she tries. Not that it matters. You won't have to be married to her for very long." He waves at a clothes rack to the side of the room that I hadn't noticed when I walked in. "There are clothes for both of you. Put her on the couch, and I’ll take care of dressing her while you put on your tux."
I clutch her tighter to my chest and nearly growl in response. "No. This is your party, sure, but I'll be dressing her myself. She’s mine at least until I choose to dispose of her."