Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
I glare at him. Tears stream down my face. But I won’t ever bow down to a coward.
“You’re no don,” I say through the pain and tears as he tightens his grip on my chin. “Our father was a real don. You’re just a weak and pathetic wannabe.”
And with everything I’ve got, I spit in his face.
Rage flares in his eyes, and I see the insanity there. No, he’s not insane. He knows what he is doing. He is evil. A scourge. A fucking demon.
He slams me to the floor, and I see stars and taste blood. Before I can collect my bearings, he grabs my shirt and drags me along the marble floor. I want to fight him, but my head is thumping with pain, and my world shifts between light and dark as I fight the unconsciousness. If I pass out now, he will kill me and Lucretia might be lost forever, so I fight it with everything I’ve got.
Luca drags me to the open cellar door and pushes me down the stairwell.
I’m already floppy and dazed, so I bounce down the stairs, feeling every bump and bruise as it forms on my body.
At the bottom, Luca hauls me to my feet and pushes me ahead of him along a narrow corridor. This is new. The thought registers through the pain. The stairwell used to lead straight into the cellar. Not this darkened corridor lit only by wall sconces. We stop at a door, and Luca punches a code into the keypad on the wall. It opens, and he shoves me inside the brick-walled room.
My vision is blurry. But I can make out a bed and a nightstand across the room. Someone is on the bed. But I can’t see who it is.
Luca comes up behind me. “Now who’s weak?”
I know he wants me to see who is on the bed, but my vision is cloudy and all the colors swim before me.
Who’s there?
I try to speak, but I think I’m concussed, and I can’t form words.
Trying to see clearly, I’m only vaguely aware of a shadowy figure in my peripheral vision. As they come closer, I see it’s Carolina.
But she’s not who was on the bed.
“Who else is in here?” I cry. “Please help me.”
But before my vision rights itself, I feel a sharp sting in my neck, and within seconds my world turns to black.
CHAPTER 61
Lars
Because I sent Santo on ahead to the clubhouse, I’ve missed a thousand phone calls from Beast. So by the time I get to the clubhouse, I walk into chaos.
But I don’t stop to answer questions because there is no time to waste.
Instead, I fly up the grand staircase to the second story and run down the corridor to my room.
Inside, I retrieve Hellbringer from its place on the wall before I go looking for Beast.
I find him in the security room with Santo, Bram, Gambit, and Rogue.
He looks at Hellbringer on my back. “What the fuck are you doing? We’re in the middle of a goddamn war with the Bratva and my enforcer goes AWOL.”
“They have Ella.”
“So Santo says.”
“Her psychopathic brother is going to hand her over to the Bratva. We need to stop it from happening.”
“It will have to wait. We’re leaving to hit the Bratva compound.”
“Olicheckoff is at the Moretti estate. I saw him there.”
“He might’ve been, but he’s home now,” Bram explains, bringing up CCTV footage of Viktor driving into the compound. I watch as he climbs out of the Rolls Royce, then forces Lucretia out of the car and inside the mansion.
Beast’s jaw tightens, but his voice is steady. “We’re going to take care of that Russian prick now.”
If Viktor left the Moretti estate, then Luca and Ella might not be far behind.
“Any sign of Luca or Ella?” I ask Bram.
He shakes his head. “No other vehicles have arrived.”
“Then I’m going back to the Moretti estate.”
Beast and Gambit follow me out of the security room.
“You can’t take on Luca Moretti by yourself,” Beast says, walking through the vast cobblestone foyer after me.
“I will if I have to.”
“I need you with me as we take down this Bratva fuck. Your club needs their enforcer.”
I stop walking to face him. “And Ella needs me more. I won’t leave her there, and if the club can’t help, then I’ll do it myself.”
He takes a step toward me. “I know you care about this chick—”
“I don’t just fucking care about her, Beast. I’m fucking crazy in love with her. And if we survive this, then I’m going to marry her before she realizes she’s too damn good for me.”
“Jesus,” he mutters.
“If it were Belle, what would you do? Join your club to take out a threat, or save the woman you love?”
He doesn’t need to think about his answer.
But he’s considering the consequence of telling me the truth. That he’d pick Belle every time.