Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 129676 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 648(@200wpm)___ 519(@250wpm)___ 432(@300wpm)
He could have my future, but he’d never have my tears.
Usually runaway brides ditched their grooms before the ceremony.
My wife was more creative than that, though.
Gia wasn’t in an agreeable mood. I followed her at a careful distance, cloaked by the night. What a pitiful creature. Not a single woman in the entire fucking GS Properties building who wouldn’t be ecstatic to take her place, and here she was, making a spectacle out of both of us.
She wandered aimlessly through the frosty streets of New York in her tiny shorts and hoodie. It was relatively warm for February, but I still didn’t like her chances of catching pneumonia. If she knew I was following her, she didn’t give it away.
My wife of ten minutes peered into bars and restaurants longingly, eyes halting on couples walking with their hands entwined.
How unreasonable of her to be mad that I was late, considering my plane was stranded. Equally unreasonable of her to expect I wouldn’t take an important business call, as I’d taken board meetings while buried in women’s pussies before.
I couldn’t believe she made me succumb to stalking her in full wedding attire in the middle of the fucking night.
She was so much work, I briefly considered asking her for a salary with full health benefits.
Eventually, the streets converged, and she edged into Times Square, blending in with the crowd.
Smart girl, I thought with satisfaction. Gia knew she was a target, so she wanted to disappear. She purposely walked into a sea of tourists, bought herself an ice cream, and stopped to look at Broadway schedules in a well-lit corner of the street.
It was two thirty in the morning when she decided to call it a night.
She walked briskly toward the street, tugging her phone out of her hoodie’s pocket, likely to order an Uber. She lowered her gaze to the screen and stopped at the curb.
In a flash, a nondescript black sedan pulled in front of her, camouflaged by the darkness. No license plate. Tinted windows.
A burly man wearing all black charged out of the back seat. He balled her hoodie in his fist, pulling her into the car.
My whole world turned red.
I tore off toward them, ramming into his side with my shoulder, angling myself in a way that ensured I cracked a couple of ribs. He exploded with profanities, his accent unmistakably Irish, stumbling down the pavement.
Gia tripped backward while I straightened him by the collar, jamming him against the car. I could hear the driver inside speaking frantically on the phone, begging for instructions. The muscle man in front of me was middle-aged and pasty. No doubt a simple soldier.
I seized his left arm and twisted it until the sound of bone snapping echoed between the buildings, then grabbed the car’s door and smashed it into the injured area, handcuffing him with one arm trapped by the door.
He folded in two, delirious with pain. I kneed his chin, and his head snapped up. Blood gushed from his mouth.
I wanted only one thing more than breaking his spine in two. And that thing was for Gia’s clit to rub my nose as I ate her out, which was why I refrained from killing him right in front of her stunned eyes.
“Who sent you?” I grabbed him by the hair, tilting his purple, battered face to me. I already knew, but I wanted the admission.
If this beef was out in the open, Tiernan Callaghan wouldn’t be the only one doing the chasing.
The man pressed his lips together defiantly, chin trembling and dribbling blood.
I opened the door that clasped his arm, gaining momentum and slamming it again over boneless, torn flesh. He let out a piercing scream that landed nowhere.
“Let’s try again.” I tugged his hair roughly, ripping a few patches from his scalp. “Next time you don’t answer, I’ll amputate your limb clean from the rest of your useless body. Who sent you?”
“Thiernan Callaghan!” He spat blood, falling to his knees, his arm still wedged between the car and the door. By the way he was slurring, I could tell he’d likely bitten off a part of his tongue. “Feck, who elth?” he lisped.
I wasn’t going to kill him. Tiernan was going to do it anyway for snitching. Instead, I used him as pigeon post.
“Tell Tiernan next time he comes for my wife, I’ll dismember every single person he ever cared about and send him their organs at random to piece together as a puzzle. Would you like that in writing?”
“N-no.” He writhed, trying to squirm away from the pain. “Goddamn your thoul to hell. Let me go!”
I opened the door again, shoved him in, and kicked it shut. I banged the roof. “Send word to your boss. Now.”
The car careened forward, leaving skid marks in its wake.
A soft whimper sounded behind me. I swiveled in its direction, finding Gia pressing her knuckles to her mouth. She trembled, her eyes wide and haunted.