Total pages in book: 128
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132498 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 530(@250wpm)___ 442(@300wpm)
Lorenzo’s mouth curves. “I’m always careful.”
I lean back just enough to look at him, brows lifting. “That’s the biggest lie you’ve ever told.”
Rafe snorts, already heading for the door. “She’s not wrong.”
Lorenzo flicks him a look. “I’ll kill you after.”
Rafe flashes a grin over his shoulder. “Put it on my calendar.”
Lorenzo’s attention returns to me. “You stay here,” he repeats. “No wandering.”
I tilt my chin up, stubborn. “I’m not helpless.”
“I know.” He smiles, then he steps back. “I’ll be back.”
“You better.”
“Bossy.”
Lorenzo laughs, then turns and strides toward the door.
As he reaches the threshold, he glances back once.
His eyes lock on mine, and for a second, I see something raw beneath his stare.
Then it shudders.
I remain in the chair, my fingers still tingling where he touched me.
He’d better come home.
64
Lorenzo
The asshole isn’t even trying to hide.
Nope. He’s just sitting . . .
Waiting.
Like he knew I was coming and seems happy I’ve finally joined him.
With a smile on his face, Grant looks up from the glass of whiskey in his hand.
“Took you long enough.” That alone nearly makes me smile. “Well,” he drawls, setting the glass down with deliberate calm, “this is dramatic.”
My gun comes up without thought. “How fucking dare you kidnap my wife?”
Grant laughs.
Not nervous. Not scared.
Confident.
“She was never yours,” he says, pushing up from the chair. His eyes flick once to the gun, then back to my face. “She was always meant to be mine.”
Something snaps inside me. “You don’t get to talk about her like she’s a thing,” I reply, stepping closer. “She isn’t an object you misplaced. She’s not a prize. She’s a person. And she’s mine.”
Grant’s mouth curls, sharp and smug. “Says the man who kept her hidden away and forced her to marry him.”
The words land.
They don’t miss.
But I don’t flinch.
“I was wrong,” I say, surprising both of us. “And I know it.”
Grant’s brows lift. “Oh? That’s new.”
“I thought vengeance was the same thing as justice,” I continue, my grip tightening on the gun. “I thought punishment would fix the hole she left behind.”
I step closer. He takes one step back.
“But I was always fixing the wrong thing.”
Grant scoffs. “You really think that absolves you?”
“No,” I say calmly. “It explains me.”
His eyes flick again toward the exit.
I don’t give him time to try.
The gun fires.
Once.
Grant jerks as the bullet slams into his chest. He hits the floor hard.
I step over him immediately, gun still trained on his body.
“You will never hurt us again,” I say.
Grant coughs, and crimson rivulets escape his mouth.
It’s only a matter of time. The fucker will be dead in a matter of seconds.
What can I say, I’m a good shot.
My hand lifted to fire again, because why not? He might be dead already, but a few more bullets will make me feel better.
My finger pulls back the trigger, but what I see stops me . . .
A smile twists through the blood on Grant’s face. He’s smirking at me, like he knows something I don’t.
“That’s where you’re wrong,” he gurgles on his own blood that’s bubbling out of his mouth.
My pulse slows. “What do you mean?”
Grant wheezes, breath hitching. “You just signed her death warrant.”
What the fuck. “Speak,” I snap, crouching, pressing the gun closer. “Now.”
His eyes glass, but there’s something feral still burning behind them.
“If I can’t have her,” he rasps, “no one can.”
“What the hell does that mean?” I demand. My heart is beating so fast now that it might explode from my body.
Grant’s gaze locks onto mine, triumphant even as he bleeds out.
“I put a hit on her,” he whispers, “through a network.”
The world tilts.
“Call it off,” I snarl, grabbing his collar. “Call it off now.”
Grant’s breath stutters. “O-only I-I can,” he chokes. “A-and I-I don’t feel—”
Rage detonates.
“Call it off,” I roar.
Grant smiles. One last smile. Because before I can even yell again, his body goes slack.
Dead.
“Fuck!”
The room erupts in motion.
Rafe begins to swear, but all I hear is the echo of one sentence repeating in my skull like a curse.
If I can’t have her, no one can.
Rafe grips my shoulder. “Lorenzo.”
I turn slowly.
“If that’s true,” I say, voice hollow and lethal, “then she’ll never be safe.”
Rafe swallows. “Not unless—”
“I kill them all,” I finish.
No hesitation.
No dramatics.
Just fact.
Rafe nods once. “Then that’s what we do.”
“We start tonight.”
I don’t remember the drive home.
I don’t remember walking inside.
My brain is fuzzy until I see her. But seeing her jump-starts my heart.
She takes one look at my face and freezes. “Lorenzo.”
I cross the room in three strides and cup her face, grounding myself in the fact that she’s breathing. Still alive. Still warm.
She’s safe.
For now.
I pull her into my chest anyway.
“What happened?”
I don’t know what to tell her, but when she places her hands on my jaw and looks me in the eyes, I know there is only one thing I can do. Tell her the truth.