Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
“The men who did that to you…” I start, my tone dark. “They can be glad they’re dead. I would’ve done to them what they’d done to you and much worse. The same goes for the woman.”
“Oxo?” Her eyes flare. “She’s dead?”
“Yes,” I bite out. “Kent took her out when she tried to talk to me.”
“That’s why you killed him.”
My reply is clipped. “Correct.”
“That’s sad.” She gets a far-off look in her eyes. “I felt kind of sorry for Oxo. The man who mostly interacted with me was mean to her. I don’t think she was all bad.”
“Tatiana,” I say with warning, loathing her pity for the motherfuckers who tortured her.
“She looked vulnerable.”
“The only person who was vulnerable in that situation was you.”
“No.” A small smile curves her lips. “I don’t think so.”
“It doesn’t matter.” I splay and flex my fingers, imagining what I’m going to do to the bastards who orchestrated her kidnapping when I catch them. “I will find every person who had a hand in your abduction, and when I do, they’ll wish they’d never heard your name. They’ll die in the most painful manner my sick, creative mind can think up, all of them. I swear that to you.”
She gives me that same pitying look. “You do realize there will always be someone else who’ll come after the necklace, don’t you?”
No, there won’t be, not with the plans I have for it.
Gripping her nape, I pull her against me and give her a twisted smile. “If you think they’re going to die for the necklace, darling, think again. They’re going to die for you.”
She yanks away as if I’ve burned her with my touch, her expression fiery and offended. As if I’ll ever let anyone live who dared to threaten her or harm a hair on her head.
“Let’s just get this over with,” she says, visibly shaking. “I’d like to get out of here.”
I’m not sure if she means the church or our marriage, but I get the feeling it’s the latter.
Not giving me a chance to argue, she kneels on the floor and hooks her fingers into the joint between two concrete tiles where a corner is chipped. I crouch down and join her, pulling away the heavy tile. It falls over with a thud that echoes through the space. A small cloud of dust puffs up in the moonlight, making her cough.
She reaches up and takes a candle from the altar that she puts on the floor. The flame throws a reddish glimmer over a hole in the ground. The hollowed-out square is just big enough to hold a metal box with onyx inlays on the lid.
Tatiana removes the box carefully and puts it down on the floor. It’s a decorative box meant for treasures such as jewelry or love letters. Reverently, she brushes the dust off the lid. Then she wiggles it loose and lifts it. Just like that. No key. No electronic lock. No safety mechanism. Just a pretty box with a detachable lid.
Adrenaline floods my veins as I stare at the black fabric that covers the content. Dust is sprinkled over the cloth, appearing grainy in the flickering candlelight. The flame jumps high, illuminating Tatiana’s face with an otherworldly golden glow.
She falls back onto her ass. Trapped in fear, her green eyes appear even brighter.
“Hey.” I offer her a hand. “What’s the matter?”
Ignoring my proffered hand, she leans back on her arms and looks at the candle with round eyes. “The flame.”
“What about it?”
“My mother used to say that happens when a spirit enters a room.”
A gust of wind barrels through the door, blowing a leaf inside.
“It’s just the wind, darling. I left the door open.”
Not seeming convinced, she bites her lip.
I chuckle at her superstitiousness. It’s not a side of her I know. It’s cute, though.
Turning my attention back to the box, I hold my breath and grip the edge of the cloth.
This is it, the moment I’ve waited years for. Now that the time has come, it feels unreal. But Tatiana’s shallow breathing assures me this is as real as it gets. So do the shadows that shift over the floor as, behind the windows, clouds move in front of the moon.
When I flick back the cloth, I almost expect a dirty trick like a jack-in-the-box jumping out. Instead, hundreds of diamonds set in an intricate necklace lie before me, glittering like stars against a black sky.
The sight is too much to process. My brain battles to believe what my eyes are seeing. Needing to reassure myself that it’s not a wicked illusion, a cruel trick of my mind, I lift the necklace from the box. I’ve forgotten how heavy it is, how, when I slip the stones between my fingers, they flow like droplets of cool water over my skin.