Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“It’s fucked-up,” I choke out, staring at him. “Are you saying you poisoned me?” I don’t even know where to start on how twisted this is.
Corvus polishes his nails on the hem of his fine black suit jacket. “That’s a matter of semantics, isn’t it? Was it me? Was it the person who asked me to do it? In any case, I am the only one who knows how to administer the antidote.”
So casually cruel.
I have to take a deep breath before I once more look up into those cold, calculating eyes. “And what do you want?”
“As I said before. Fuck me like your life depends on it, and I’ll give you the antidote. You kill me, you’ll die anyway, even if you manage to escape, which you wouldn’t.”
This is the strangest thing that’s ever happened to me, but I hold his gaze as I swallow. I hate that he wants to use me, but I’ve got no alternative. He’s got me by the balls.
So I nod, adjusting to this new reality. “Why me? You’re handsome, you could easily find someone,” I tell him, weaving in a compliment, because I can also play this game to my advantage.
Was it a trick of the light, or did his lips quirk?
I don’t get to find out, because the lizard is back to his self-satisfied smile as he shows me my phone again. “You’ve got excellent reviews. So… do we have an agreement?” he asks, his hand halfway to the lock.
He might be lying to my face. After the fuck, he could mock me and claim that I didn’t meet his standard, or deny me the antidote, but I’ve got nothing left to lose but my dignity. As far as I know, the Van der Horns do keep their promises.
“Yes,” I say as I scan him from head to toe and lean closer to the bars. I can smell him. The sweet mixture of tobacco and clove, likely from those black cigarettes he smokes, still lingers in the air, but there’s also the strong aroma of spicy cologne. He must have applied it very recently. Did he want to smell good for me? Or is he just always this immaculate? Can I make his facade break? I fucking hope so, but if I am to attempt that, I’ll need to first find out what makes him tick.
A hot flush passes through me when I realize how unkempt I must look after two sleeps in this fucking place. I can sense the grime on my body and the oiliness of my scalp. Then again, if he’s approaching me regardless, maybe he’s after a bit of slumming it? I did once fuck a guy who wanted me to gag him with my dirty sock before I nailed him to my bed.
I don’t judge.
Corvus stuffs my phone into his pocket and touches the lock, as if he expects it to open at his touch. But, nope, this door doesn’t come with one of those fancy fingerprint readers, and he ends up swallowing a curse before walking off.
I curl both my hands around the bars, suddenly afraid that it was all a joke, and that the other Van der Horns are somewhere close by, listening on to this conversation, but before I can shout Corvus’s name, he’s back with a bundle of keys.
As embarrassing as it is that he’s dug through the messages and photos on my phone, I’m also kinda… flattered? What can I say? It’s not every day that a man as refined and powerful as Corvus Van der Horn gives me a second glance
I must be missing something though, because there’s a reason he’s chosen a guy on death row. I’m guessing he’s in the closet and wants anonymity. Someone who’ll scratch his itch and disappear. Or he’s an adrenaline junkie, eager to dance on the sharp edge of a knife to get off. I will give him whatever he wants, as soon as I find out what it is.
I don’t need a weapon to kill him, so I keep still when the door opens. After all, he must be armed, and even if I did break his neck in some movie-worthy stunt, the poison would get to me eventually.
I cock my head, admiring the elongated line of his body, the wide shoulders emphasized by the suit jacket and how it tapers at his waist.
“Are we going to your bedroom?”
“No. You need a shower. And lots of soap.”
I try not to flinch, and remind myself that while he just told me I stink, he still wants me to touch him. That has to count for something.
Corvus steps away from the cell, leading me out into the corridor. I don’t know if he’s trying to prove something to me or himself by turning his back on me so soon, but I rather enjoy being able to look at the sliver of skin between his dark hair and the collar of his black shirt.