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)
“I can’t...” Her voice cracked as she swallowed hard. “I don’t have the money.”
“I know.”
“Who are you?” she asked again, more insistent this time, her eyes searching my face.
My head tilted to the side. “Nobody.”
Fear flashed across her face at my answer. She pulled her hand back, cradling it protectively against her chest like a wounded bird. “Leave me alone.”
“I can protect you if you come with me,” I said, watching her shiver in the rain as pain and despair coursed through her weak, worn-down body. “I can take you away from here, from the people who hurt you.”
“You can protect me?” There was hope in her voice now, fragile and desperate. So young, so broken.
“I can protect you,” I promised.
“Why would you do that?” she asked, suspicion mingling with desperation.
“I have my reasons,” I said, extending my hand toward her again. “But you don’t need to know them, except that I can change your life. Give you a roof over your head. Warm bed. Food.”
She hesitated, her gaze darting between my face and my outstretched hand as she searched my face for deception. For cruelty.
I didn’t know what she saw, what made her trust me.
Her good hand was cold when it finally slipped into mine. My fingers closed around hers, exchanging my warmth with her.
“What’s your name?” I asked her, though I already knew the answer. I knew everything about her.
“Elizabeth.” Her chest shuddered with a trembling breath. “But everyone calls me Beth.”
“Hello, Beth. I’m Adrian.”
I woke up with a start, my heart hammering against my ribs. My blanket was tangled around my legs like restraints, the bedsheets soaked with my sweat.
The darkness of my bedroom pressed in on me, suffocating.
“Fuck,” I muttered, rubbing my face with both hands, frustration bubbling up inside me like acid.
That dream again. Always the same. Another reminder of failure.
Sleep was a luxury I couldn’t afford. Two hours of sleep that was all I ever got before the nightmares dragged me back to consciousness, forcing me to face the ghosts that haunted me.
I threw the covers aside and swung my legs over the edge of the bed. Anger burned through me, hot and consuming. Rage was a real living thing inside me, a true monster clawing at my insides, demanding release, demanding retribution.
I shouldn’t be haunted by the past. It made men like me weak and vulnerable. Yet here I was… drowning in my sordid past. The reminders of her and the future that I could have had.
The dream lingered—her broken fingers, her tears, the trust I’d betrayed. I couldn’t save her. I couldn’t save either of them.
My bare feet hit the cold hardwood floor as I stood, my body tense, the muscles clenching with my movement. I needed to move, to do something, anything to escape the memories. I paced the length of my dark bedroom, my fists clenched at my sides.
Fucking Matteo took everything from me and walked away unscathed, while I drowned in blood and unanswered questions.
I had been powerless to stop him.
I was weak.
Fuck.
FUCK.
I wanted to break something. To destroy something. To make someone feel the pain that I couldn’t seem to escape.
A pair of hazel eyes flashed in my mind.
The thought came unbidden, cutting through the fog of my rage.
My wife, sleeping peacefully down the hall in her room, the room I’d given her, the sanctuary I’d promised.
My body moved on its own accord, drawn by a need I couldn’t name. The hallway was dark, silent except for the soft ticking of the clock in the foyer.
Her door was unlocked. Surprisingly, it had been every night since she arrived.
She never locked it herself and I never locked her in.
Serafina had chosen to make this room her cage.
I pushed her door open without a sound, slowly, letting the dim light from the hallway spill across her bed.
Moonlight spilled through the window, where the curtain remained open, casting a silver glow across her sleeping form. Serafina was curled on her side, one hand tucked beneath her cheek, her dark hair fanned across the pillow like spilled ink.
In sleep, her face was softer, the carefully constructed mask of composure she wore during the day stripped away. Her lips were slightly parted, her long lashes casting shadows on her cheeks.
I entered her sanctuary and closed the door behind me.
The blanket had slipped down to her waist, revealing the curve of her shoulder, the swell of her breast beneath the thin nightgown.
My mouth went dry as I watched her chest rise and fall with each breath.
My eyes traced the curve of her bare shoulder, her skin looking soft in the half-light, pale and unmarred. My fingers itched, wanting to know how it would feel beneath my touch. Beneath my lips.
Fuck me, she was beautiful. Even in the darkness, even in her sleep.
Her body was made for fucking.