Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94076 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 470(@200wpm)___ 376(@250wpm)___ 314(@300wpm)
Oblivious to the danger, Luca swings the door closed and begins to walk back toward me carrying his present, but stops when the first drop of blood splashes against his feet.
He frowns and places the box on the floor to rip it open. “What in the—oh, my God.”
He rears back, his mouth twisted in horror. His face drains of color, and he shoves his hand into his mouth to stop himself from vomiting.
I step forward to peer inside the box.
Inside is Viktor Olicheckoff’s severed head. His bulging eyes stare lifelessly up at me and his fat, sluggish tongue hangs limp out of the side of his mouth. Blood drips from the meaty tendrils of flesh hanging from his neck and coagulates in the bottom of the box.
I should be alarmed.
Frightened, even.
Instead, I smile, then spit on the dead man’s face.
Suddenly the lights go out and the house is shrouded in darkness, except for the moonlight pouring in through the sky dome above the staircase.
“George, Lorenzo, Olaf,” Luca calls to his bodyguards. “Come here, I need you.”
But here is no reply.
We are surrounded in silence and shadows.
“Where the hell are my bodyguards?” Luca yells, with a mix of fear and impatience.
In the silence that follows, something falls against the floor in the shadows. Luca panics. He knows something is coming. I can feel it too.
“Hello, Luca.” Lars’s voice echoes throughout the foyer.
Goosebumps spread like wildfire across my skin at the sound of his voice as it echoes through the darkness. I scan the foyer for him. But there are too many shadows.
Luca grabs me and shoves a gun into my ribs. “You come near me, and I’ll kill her.”
“Move away from her,” Lars warns.
But Luca presses his gun deeper into my ribs. “And have you kill me? No, she can stay right here.”
“Make no mistake, Luca, I am going to kill you. What you need to ask yourself is if you want it to be quick and painless, or drawn out and excruciating.”
Luca looks around nervously, narrowing his eyes to search the shadows. “You lay a finger on me, and she dies, do you understand me?” He tries to sound brave but fails. He’s terrified. I can feel his hand trembling as he holds his gun against me.
“Pull that trigger and I will make sure your last moments on earth are the most agonizing thing you’ve ever known.”
“She’ll be dead before you can get to me.”
“Are you sure about that?”
The voice comes from right behind us. Luca swings us around, and we come face to face with Lars who looks like a giant Viking in the ribbon of light beaming down on him from the sky dome. He looks vicious. No, he looks terrifying. Almost inhuman in the white light.
He’s holding his broadsword and slowly raises the tip of the blade to Luca’s chin. “Now for the last fucking time, let her go.”
My heart jumps into my throat. His voice is terrifying. His eyes demonic as he towers above us.
Luca doesn’t know what to do. He’s not just trembling, he’s shaking all over.
Quickly removing the gun from my ribs, he points it at Lars. But Lars’s expression doesn’t change. He is unfazed. Possessed by the power radiating around him. His black eyes gleaming in the white light like two shiny black stones.
“Fuck you, asshole,” Luca spits. “You can’t have her.”
Fear rockets through me because I know he’s going to shoot him.
But before he can pull the trigger, Lars swings his sword and takes Luca’s hand off with the blade, sending both his hand and the gun to the floor.
“No, fuck you,” Lars says. “She’s mine, and I don’t fucking share.”
Luca drops to his knees, clutching his wrist and hollering. Spit sprays from his mouth and he starts to blubber. “You cut off my hand, you sonofabitch, you cut off my hand!”
Blood squirts across the white marble floor. Arterial spray.
“Call an ambulance.” He grips his wrist, trying to stem the blood flow. “Ella, call a fucking ambulance.”
Sweat beads his brow and the color drains from his face. He’s getting weak. Dying.
He collapses to the floor, and as I watch, I think about every time he laid a finger on me. A punch in the stomach here. A slap to the ground there. The twist of my wrist until it burned so bad, I cried out and begged him to stop.
I bend down to pick up the gun.
I think about him pinning me to the bed and slicing open my thigh and the horrific pain that followed.
I grip the gun tighter.
I think about him wrapping his hands around my throat and calling me a whore.
“I want you to know something.” I raise the gun. “You will be forgotten, Luca. And while you are rotting in the ground, I will be ruling this kingdom, and no one is ever going to mention your name again.”