Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Then he steps back. “Goodbye, little bride.”
“Kaiser, no.” I swallow my desperate plea. I have to be strong. I’m wearing a long coat and clutch it around me for a second, getting myself together. “I need you to kiss me.”
He freezes in the act of turning away.
“Do this one thing for me.” I wet my lips, tasting the bitter lip gloss I’ve coated them with. “Kiss me, Kaiser. Please.”
He hesitates, a tremor running through him. He knows I’m up to something, but he can’t resist me.
He comes closer, and the noise and the crowd fade away. “Belladonna.”
I reach up and stroke his lips. I can’t stop myself.
He seizes me, pulling me close. I can feel him fighting himself, but he can’t fight me.
I’m the one who’s beaten him. The only one. And he knows it.
He lowers his head to mine. It feels inevitable.
Our lips brush, and he sighs, a shocked gust of air against my lips.
“Please,” I barely whisper.
With his fingers tight in my hair, he kisses me.
My whole body thrills at the sensation. I feel alive.
And then it’s over. He draws my head back slowly, tugging my hair hard enough to make my eyes water. Fresh pain washes through me, and I embrace it.
I take a step back, letting him put distance between us. He needs it. He’s bracing himself, getting ready to leave me. “It’s okay. You’re only doing what you think you have to do.”
“I have to…” He shakes his head. “You will be safe.”
“Thank you,” I whisper, stroking his face. He lets me. He can feel the resignation in me, and he thinks I’m willing to let him go. “Thank you for being willing to free me. There’s just one thing,” I pull him down and whisper into his mangled ear, “I don’t want to be free.”
He rears back to study my face when a wave of drowsiness hits him, rolling over his tense muscles and loosening them until he sways. “No—”
“Shhh. It’s okay. Just go to sleep.” I put enough sleeping potion on my tongue to knock out two of him. He’s unsteady on his feet, but he clutches at me, fighting to stay upright.
“Bella—”
“I win.” One little push and he falls like a cut tree. Jaeger catches him, staggering under his brother’s weight. A few Fraternitas guys in skull masks rush to help.
“He’s out. Keep him back,” Jaeger tells them. “No matter what happens.”
Phase one of my plan is complete.
Now for the hard part.
Jaeger turns to me. “I hope you know what you’re doing.”
I don’t, and it doesn’t matter. I’m doing it.
Jaeger glances over at the Giant, then back at me. There’s at least two feet of height difference. “Don’t let him hit you.”
“I’ll do what I have to do.” I pull out hair ties and put my hair up in two high pigtails. Then I untie the sash of the big coat I’m wearing and let it fall. Underneath, I’m wearing my supervillain costume.
I wipe the soporific from my lips and pull out my extra-special lip gloss, applying a thick layer.
Then I square my shoulders and walk toward the ring. Jaeger moves ahead of me, clearing a path. More masked men fall in front and behind me, escorting me through the crowd.
I tried to get Fratneritas to allow Honey to come ringside, but they denied my request. Instead, there’s a woman named Angel who will be my ring girl. She’s beautiful, with a dazzling smile, and turns to greet me as I approach.
“Ready?” she asks.
I touch my hair, checking the pigtails. My roots are dark because I’ve had bigger things to deal with than taking the time to fully re-dye my hair. But I did put more color over the platinum. Now, both ponytails look like they’ve been dipped in pink paint. I’m in a black and pink bra and hot pants set, the one Kaiser didn’t want me to wear out of the house the day we went to marriage counseling.
That day feels like a lifetime ago.
“You look great,” Angel assures me.
I look like a cute, naive young woman out of my depth. Which is what I want. The best offense is a good disguise.
She hands me a water bottle filled with my own brew, and I drink it all, feeling it burn down my throat.
“Is that it?” Angel asks.
I shake my head. Before I can say anything more, St. James climbs into the ring to kick things off. He doesn’t say anything, just stands there with a microphone in hand until everyone gets quiet. In less than a minute, a hush falls over the space.
“This is a fight to the death. The gods will decide the champion, so pray to them. Or Him. Whichever you prefer.”
“To my right, representing the Bulls and Don Vesuvio, is the Giant.”
The Giant enters the ring. He takes his bull mask off and throws it to the crowd. The Bulls cheer and chant, “Dominus, Dominus,” over and over. In front of them, a thin man in a dark suit leans on a cane. Dominus Vesuvio, the Don of the Bulls. He looks mean and ancient, with a passing resemblance to Sal Vesuvio, his late son.