Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 96170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 481(@200wpm)___ 385(@250wpm)___ 321(@300wpm)
“Stupid bitch.” The man throws my wrench aside. “Just stay down and make it easy.”
I try crawling, but he pins me down to the ground and straddles my body. He’s huge, and I can’t move as he wraps his meaty fists around my throat.
I try punching. I try hitting and screaming, but he tightens his grip, fingers digging into my windpipe. I can’t make any noise. I can’t do anything but stare into the angry, bloody, malicious face of my killer.
“Hate these—fucking jobs—god damn—killing women—pain in my ass—” The man’s jaw works, showing crooked teeth. “Fucking bitch, just die—”
He grunts in surprise as something hits him in the side of the head. I can barely make sense of it, but his grip releases. There’s another person in here, and stupidly, I think it’s Ernesto. But my savior’s much bigger than the daytime foreman.
“You touched my fucking wife,” he snarls in a malicious, terrifying grunt. It’s a sound I know well. It’s a voice that has been playing through my head for almost a month now. “You piece of fucking shit.”
Each word is punctuated by the blow with the wrench. My favorite wrench.
Luca raises it and smashes it down, again and again, over and over. Blood flows from my attacker’s face as he tries to defend himself, but Luca doesn’t stop. He’s a wild animal. Again and again, the wrench raises and lowers as flesh breaks and bones snap.
I crawl backwards, staring in horror, slowly coming back to myself.
Everything aches. Everything hurts.
I watch Luca beat the man until he doesn’t look like a human anymore, and he keeps going, his arm and clothes drenched in blood.
“Nobody—touches—my fucking—wife.”
Finally, with one last blow, he stops.
A stupid thought floats through my addled brain.
I’m not your wife yet.
The garage falls silent. Luca slowly straightens and lets the wrench clatter to the concrete. I stay on the floor, throat aching, head dizzy, confused, afraid, thankful—a million different emotions, none of them sticking for long.
Luca turns to me.
He’s beautiful and glorious.
Blood’s drenched all over him, and he’s still perfect. I’ve never seen a man look so incredible before. He’s powerful and athletic, and he looks like beating another human into flesh-shaped paste doesn’t even faze him. I’m caught between screaming in terror and throwing myself at him like a maniac.
“I should’ve gotten in here sooner,” he says, kneeling down. Some of the edge in his voice is gone. “Are you okay?”
“I don’t know,” I croak and touch my face. My lip’s bleeding from the punch. “I think so.”
“Shit,” he whispers, touching the wound on my mouth with his thumb. He rubs it gently before putting my blood in his mouth. “Come with me.”
I don’t know what the fuck to say to that.
He reaches out a hand, and I take it.
“What are you doing here?” I gasp as I get to my feet. He pulls me close against him. The dead man’s blood smears on my clothes. The corpse doesn’t move. I try not to look at its horribly mangled face.
“I’ll explain soon. For now, we have to go.” He pulls me toward the door.
“Wait. Wait! Who was that? What’s happening?”
“You’re in danger.” Luca’s jaw flexes. “I should’ve stopped that sooner. I’m sorry, Fiorella.”
“How did you even know?”
He stops and looks at me. We’re alone in the garage. My head’s slowly clearing, though it’s still throbbing with pain.
“I’ve been watching you day and night for two weeks.”
My mouth drops open. “You’ve been doing what?”
He grips my hands tightly between his.
“You’re safe now.” His voice is a whisper. “I’ve got you, Fio. Come with me.”
He’s been watching me. I don’t even know what that means. Is my future husband also a stalker now? Is Luca obsessed in some weird way?
Or does he know something that I don’t?
I let him lead me from the garage. Another man’s waiting outside. He’s young and wide-eyed. “Oh, shit,” he says. “You were right.”
“Leo, get in touch with Fiorella’s family. She’s coming home with me tonight.”
“Yeah, okay, right away.”
“Tell the others too. I want Enzo here in ten minutes to check that body for ID. I need to know who’s coming for her.”
“Done.” Leo hurries off at a run.
“Who was that?” I ask stupidly.
“That was a friend. Don’t worry, you’re with me now.”
Luca’s arm wraps around me tightly and pulls me close. God, he’s so big and warm, and he smells good, even covered in blood. I think I’m a total messed-up lunatic, but he’s gorgeous like this—drenched in gore and looking like slaughter.
He helps me into a truck, and I’m too numb to stop this as he drives away.
Chapter 9
Luca
Fiorella sits on the edge of my tub. It’s filled with warm, sudsy water. I use an old washcloth to gently clear the blood from her face. She winces and pulls away. “I can do that. I think you should focus on yourself.”