Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 478(@200wpm)___ 383(@250wpm)___ 319(@300wpm)
No one said a word to us as I pushed her out into the cold air and directed her to my waiting car.
The second I slammed the door closed, she turned on me.
Her eyes blazed with blue fire as she began her verbal rampage, full of indignation. As if she were the one who had been wronged. As if she were the one who had any right to the anger that had been pounding through my veins since the second I found out where she was, each heartbeat a hammer striking against my restraint.
"What do you think you are doing?" Viktoria snapped, rounding on me like a caged animal, the scent of her expensive perfume mixing with the metallic tang of fear. "What gives you the right?"
"Are you kidding me? Do you know how much trouble you're in right now, moya ptashka?" The endearment felt like acid on my tongue, corrosive and burning.
She turned her back on me and tried to open the door to run out the other side. The child locks for that side had been engaged.
She wasn't going anywhere.
Not tonight.
Not ever again.
Viktoria let out a scream that raked against my eardrums and pounded her balled fist against the glass. My driver started the car and pulled out into traffic, his eyes carefully fixed on the road ahead, pretending he couldn't hear her rage.
When she went missing, I felt my first real taste of fear. A cold serpent that slithered down my spine and coiled in my gut.
Once we caught her on a traffic camera and I knew where she was going, that icy fear melted into a red, fiery rage the likes of which I had never felt. It consumed every thought, burned away every shred of mercy.
"Let me go," Viktoria screeched, the sound bouncing off the leather interior.
Her hand went up like she was going to slap me again.
Instead, I grabbed her by the jaw, my grip punishing as I dragged her close to me, close enough to count the silver flecks in her irises, to see the broken capillaries from her tears.
She tried to squirm away, her nails digging crescents into my wrist, but I wasn't having it. She was going to listen. She was going to understand.
"Do you have any idea what could've happened to you?" My question cut through her defiance.
"I could have been free of you," she hissed, the fight melting from her like snow in flame, uncertainty dancing in her sapphire eyes.
She didn't want to be free of me. Not really. She wanted to fight me, and she wanted me to win. She wanted me to prove that I was worthy of her, that I was monster enough to keep her safe but man enough to be worthy of her submission.
Part of me found that exciting, even exhilarating, and I'd have been fine playing her little game if she didn't keep putting herself in danger. If the stakes weren't so damned high.
"You could have been taken, tortured, killed, or worse," I spat, each word a bullet. "Your father was a piece of shit who owed a lot of dangerous people a lot of money. If given half a fucking chance, they will use you to pay his debts. Is that what you want?"
Her eyes went wide with horrified realization for a moment, and then she bowed her head.
The car was dark, the interior illuminating when we passed under streetlights, the harsh yellow glow slashing across her face in rhythmic intervals. For a second, I thought I saw a tear fall from her cheek to her lap, a diamond catching the light before it disappeared into the darkness of her jeans. When we passed the next streetlight, it was gone. Replaced by the same stubborn determination that made my cock ache against the confines of my pants.
"Fine, I'll go back to the apartment, and I will only go to class and back," she conceded, her voice small but still edged with defiance.
I tipped my head back and laughed, the sound scraping my throat raw. How stupid did she think I was?
"No, princess, you have lost that apartment. We're going to a safe house, and you will be punished. One more word from you before we get there and I'm going to bend you over my knee in this fucking car."
Her eyes darted to my driver and then to Ivan, who was sitting in the front passenger seat, ready to deal with whatever punishment I gave him for letting her escape in the first place. His shoulders were rigid with tension, jaw tight as he stared straight ahead.
She crossed her arms over her chest, the action pushing her breasts up, and slumped back into the seat, staring out the window at the blurred city lights.
It was fine. She could sulk all she wanted. It wouldn't change a goddamn thing.