Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78192 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
My vision comes and goes, and I see flashes of scared faces. Out on the sidewalk, I’m dragged past the lifeless body of Masaki. Even though he was never nice to me, I still feel a pang of loss.
I don’t see Kentaro, and for a fleeting moment, I wonder if he managed to get away.
So much for being my guard.
My senses start to grow sharper again, and as we reach a sedan, I begin to struggle in an attempt to get free. The two men don’t even break a sweat as they stuff me into the trunk of a car, and when it slams shut, engulfing me in darkness, a distressed sound escapes me.
I hear muffled voices, and a few seconds later, the engine starts.
Lifting my hands, I frantically search the trunk for anything I can use as a weapon, but there’s nothing.
With every mile they drive, my heartbeat speeds up until I’m breathless, and a cold sweat dampens my hair and skin.
My face aches all over, and lifting a trembling hand, I probe my already swelling cheek and jaw.
It’s only then that the realization hits like a ten-pound hammer.
They’re probably going to kill me.
An icy shiver ghosts over my entire body, and my tongue goes numb with terror.
I hate my life, but I don’t want to die.
I want to see Ryo again. Maybe once he takes over, he will give me back my life and protect me.
That’s the hope that’s kept me going all these years.
With my panicked gasps filling the air, I struggle not to burst out in tears.
The car comes to a stop, and instantly, my heart flutters like a caged bird. Every muscle in my body tenses, and when I hear footsteps right outside the trunk and it opens, I turn onto my back and begin to hit and kick with all my might.
It’s useless, though.
A man I haven’t seen before delivers two quick punches to my head, the blows rattling my brain so much I’m swallowed by darkness. For the longest moment, it sounds like I’m underwater, and I can’t regain control of my senses.
I have no idea how much time passes, but once my hearing and sight begin to return, I hear the sound of painful grunts coming from Kentaro. He must’ve survived the attack and has also been captured.
It feels like I’m lying on a hard surface, and for a few seconds, I listen while trying to make sense of my surroundings.
“Do you know who I am?” I hear a deep voice growl, his tone dark and ruthless.
“Baka,” Kentaro spits. “The Yakuza will kill you.”
I dare to open my eyes a little, and seeing Kentaro in a kneeling position in front of the man who hit me in the restaurant kitchen, more icy terror pours through my veins.
Where I thought he was the most attractive man I had ever seen when I first laid eyes on him, all I see now is a vicious monster.
There’s blood pooling by Kentaro’s knee from the gunshot to his thigh, and his face is covered with cuts and bruises.
I notice we’re in some kind of hangar. Outside, I see part of a jet and black SUVs and sedans.
The man crouches so he’s almost eye level with Kentaro.
“I’m Augusto Vitale,” he says. “Because of you, my brother is in the hospital right now.”
“Good.” Kentaro chuckles while sneering at Augusto. “Sicilian shit.” He spits at Augusto, and it has my eyes going wide.
Kuso. Kuso. Kuso.
Augusto holds out his hand and snarls, “Knife.”
Struck with horror, I watch as one of his men hands him a blade with sharp jagged edges. Augusto doesn’t break eye contact with Kentaro, grabbing him behind the neck. He holds him firmly in place, and as he brings the knife toward Kentaro’s throat, my guard tries to rear back while grabbing hold of Augusto’s arm.
My heart thunders wildly in my chest as I scramble to my feet. Just as I turn to run, Augusto lets out a savage sounding growl while he slowly pushes the knife into Kentaro’s neck until the sharp tip comes out the other side.
As Kentaro’s eyes widen with shock, they lock on me for a second, and somehow he’s able to groan, “Run!”
While my mind is reeling, my body listens, and I sprint as fast as I can toward the opening.
“Get the fucker!” Augusto roars, and the fear his threatening tone injects into me makes me push even harder.
Just as I reach the opening, something pings off the metal doors beside me.
“Don’t fucking kill him!”
Fear has me glancing back, and as I make eye contact with a man who seems to be in his late twenties, he plows into me, and I’m tackled off my feet.
My shoulder hits the ground so hard, it forces all the air from my lungs. I feel my shoulder pop out of its socket, and it sends a wave of crippling pain through my arm, neck, and upper body.