Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73655 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 295(@250wpm)___ 246(@300wpm)
That’s a lie.
He’s no oaf.
He must be over six-feet tall, with broad shoulders and a jawline that could slice through marble. His tanned, olive skin compliments his dark hair. Silver eyes remind me of a predator and his full lips make his mouth intoxicating to watch as it shifts in tiny movements.
“My boss is a man who doesn’t like to be questioned,” Mario finally speaks, revealing he the familiar deep baritone I heard the night my uncle signed the contract. “He always gets what he wants. There is never any doubt when he speaks, people revel in his words and obey with no retort.”
I meet his gaze, holding it, before tipping my chin back in a fake show of confidence which I most definitely don’t feel. “Why are you telling me this?”
He takes in my stance, his eyes roving over me, from head to toe and back to my face, where he holds my stare hostage. As much as I want to look away, I find I can’t. Strength and confidence oozes from him as he settles on the bed and finally gives me a big smile. One that makes his eyes sparkle like metal in sunlight.
“I need you to know that no matter what you do to him, say to him, he’ll never let you leave this place. You’re his now. And even though he doesn’t love you, you will be his wife until you take your final breath.”
The reminder of what I’ve been forced into sends chills down my spine. “Let me make something clear. I may be young, but this life…” I wave my hand to gesture around me. “Is what I’ve grown up in. I know about the violence, the darkness, and the bullshit that comes with my contract. Your boss may be next in line, but I’m a princess within my Familia. I’ve been born and bred to rule, and if he can’t accept a queen by his side, then he should kill me now.” I hold up my finger to silence him when he opens his mouth before I continue my tirade. “And let me make another thing clear. I never once asked him to love me. I may not have chosen him as my husband, and I’m not deluded to think he wants me as a wife, but we’re both adults and can live with the lives our families have chosen for us.”
Mario stares at me wide-eyed and slack jawed. His gaze lands on my hands and it’s only then I realize I’m trembling with anger. My stomach twists at what I’ve just done—begging to be killed instead of marrying a man who will never love me.
A slow clap breaks the tension in the room and my stare that’s been locked on the stranger for the last few minutes moves toward the sound. Enzo steps into the room, his suit pants are a dark blue and they hug every toned muscle of his legs. A crisp white shirt with the top three buttons undone looks like it’s been molded to his toned frame, and the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, gifting me a glimpse of tanned skin.
“What a sassy little thing you are,” he says with a sadistic smirk, curling his lips. A glint catches my eye, and I notice his belt is also a holster, a blade in place of a gun in a leather sheath. The same knife he wielded last night.
“I was just telling it like it is.” Once more, I cross my arms, holding myself steady because I suddenly feel dizzy. They’re both double my size, and I know there is no way I’ll be able to fight my way out of this. The only thing I have to bargain with is my body, and I don’t intend giving that up.
Not to them.
Ever.
Enzo drops his gaze, his focus on the floor as he leans against the door frame, his arms folded, which only seems to cause corded veins to bulge from his forearms. Everything south of my belly button tightens, and I swallow back a moan of appreciation.
He’s a killer.
A violent, obsessive monster.
“Perhaps you should keep those pretty lips shut, little dancer,” he murmurs as he lifts his hand, scrubbing at the darkened jawline of his handsome, Adonis-like face. His beard shadows the angles, but it doesn’t diminish just how handsome he truly is.
“You’d like that. Wouldn’t you?” I challenge. “A submissive little pet for you to toy with.” My words are biting, but he doesn’t flinch. He doesn’t show an ounce of emotion as he lifts his raven-hued gaze to lock on me. Fire burns in those dark and endless orbs as his lashes attempt to hide the flames.
“Now that you mention it,” he ponders, his voice a whisper filled with menace. “I do quite like a woman on her knees.” The promise in his words has my core pulsing, causing me to silently admonish myself for reacting to him.