Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 105679 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 528(@200wpm)___ 423(@250wpm)___ 352(@300wpm)
Her eyes snapped open, her pupils dilated and tears ran down her purple face. Her mascara stained her cheeks.
She was vulnerable. Weak. At my absolute mercy.
But the thing about me was that I never had mercy for anyone.
Not for any of the men I tortured, maimed and killed before.
And Lola, while she was the first woman…
I found myself just as merciless.
Maybe the years of killing had hardened my heart.
Or maybe…
Because her truth had cut so deep, I felt no remorse or guilt.
I pressed the blade against her slim throat, right above where my fingers strangled her.
And then…
I cut.
I dug the dagger into her soft flesh. From left to right. The blade sliced cleanly across her throat, opening a crimson smile beneath her chin. Blood sprayed across my face, warm droplets hitting my cheek like summer rain.
I didn’t flinch.
“No…” But her denial died on her lips.
The sound of her choking echoed through my ears.
It was swift and precise.
Her fresh, warm blood pooled across her mattress and beneath her like spilled wine, staining her expensive bedsheet and silk pillowcases. Staining everything with her treacherous, filthy blood.
She made a terrible gurgling sound and I finally let go of her throat.
My hand was smeared red.
Her body twitched.
Once. Twice. Thrice.
This was a sin that would make even the weeping angels turn away in disgust, but I was no stranger to depravity. My hands had carved countless sins into the flesh of people, and the stains on my soul could never be washed clean.
I pulled away.
I thought her death should have soothed the beast inside me, should have brought me some kind of peace, but if anything…
It made me furious. Frenzied.
The hunger gnawed at my insides, demanding for satisfaction I couldn’t yet provide. Demanding for more blood to fill the void.
What I needed was… darker.
But this was only the beginning.
She was the first pawn in this ugly game of deception and lies.
A pretty, bloody gift.
Her corpse; my first message to him. Artfully arranged in crimson.
So he knew I was hunting for everything he has, everything he owned, everything he ever wanted or desired.
I was going to make his life hell.
CHAPTER FIVE
Serafina
If I had a choice… maybe I would have worn red.
Bold. Defiant. Hate.
Retribution.
Or maybe black.
Death. Rage. Fear.
Vengeance.
But the dress was white. Blindingly, achingly white… like a sacrificial offering.
I didn’t recognize the woman gazing back at me in the mirror. She was me, but different. A molded puppet for men’s desires, a quiet pawn for family’s games, and a perfect hostage to my own self-loathing. What a pity.
The off-the-shoulder white satin clung to my curves before cascading to the floor in elegant waves, reflecting light with a soft, liquid sheen. The fabric was flawless, everything about the dress was flawless. Expensive and refined.
I felt both powerful and exposed.
A fraud.
God, what am I doing?
Lucia secured the final pin in my hair, arranging the dark tresses in a delicate updo, an effortless bun that left a few tendrils framing my hair. “Absolutely perfect,” she whispered, stepping back to admire her handy work. She truly did amazing tonight.
Tonight…
Was my official engagement ball.
The formal announcement to both families and their associates that Serafina Morelli and Matteo Salvatore would be wed in four weeks’ time.
“How many people have been invited tonight?”
“I’m not too sure, but it’s about a hundred. More or less.”
More or less. Yeah, as if that was going to be easy.
It was only my second appearance to the public in my whole lifetime.
First the funeral. And now this engagement party. Next… my wedding.
All within six weeks’ timeframe.
It was a nightmare I wanted to wake up from but somehow I was trapped under the water, dark, cold and struggling. Sinking deeper and deeper into the unknown abyss, dragging me deeper into the hollow cave of nothingness.
My fingers trembled as I reached for the mask resting on the vanity. The delicate silver creation was adorned with crystals and tiny pearls that caught the light with every moment.
A masquerade ball—how fitting. Another layer to hide behind, another facade to present to the world. To show them we were merely the elite… people of high society. But the truth was darker. Our reality was far bloodier. We were everything corrupted and dark. We danced with reckless debauchery and lived the life of complete depravity. Ugly. Illegal. Destructive.
The masquerade mask was truly the prettiest little thing I had ever laid my eyes on. I never thought I’d ever attend a masquerade ball. It all seemed whimsical when I used to think about it. Romantic and fairytale like.
“They’re waiting for you downstairs,” Lucia said softly, squeezing my shoulder. “Your father asked me to remind you that your entrance should be precisely at nine o’clock.”
Nine o’clock. The spectacle hour in my own personal fairytale… except there would be no magical transformation at midnight, no escape from my pretty gilded cage, no glass slipper left behind. Just the inexorable march toward my cruel fate as Salvatore's gifted bride.