Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 58532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58532 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 293(@200wpm)___ 234(@250wpm)___ 195(@300wpm)
“Oh wow.” He laughs at that. “So, you think you can come in here and demand shit? Blackmail me as if the Council would believe anything you fucks have to say? That’s rich.”
“And you think you can be a disgusting, vile piece of shit and get away with it?” I mock. “Not on my watch, motherfucker.”
“This is going to be a nice day for me,” he says, lips curling in a devious smile. “First, I’m going to kill you. And then, I’m going to breed her and drain her. Hell, maybe I’ll just fucking drain her instead, just to spite you. Watch the light go right out of her eyes while I drink every drop of her blood.”
Rage flows through me like a river. I will murder him. “You will not lay a fucking finger on her.”
His intention hits me full force. It’s sharp and violent, and it whispers six words, Kill him and then kill her.
Before he can even lift a hand, before he can reach for the gun I know is in his jacket pocket, I shove all my fucking rage toward him and his arm freezes in midair. His eyes go wide, and I close the distance between us from the other end of the corridor in the blink of an eye.
“You—” Damien starts, but the word never finishes because I have one hand already wrapped around his throat, lifting him off his fucking feet.
I add my second hand to his neck and twist. Hard. The crack is sharp and precise, but I don’t stop after that. I don’t stop when his body goes lifeless beneath my fingers. I don’t stop until I’ve twisted so hard and with so much force that his body drops to the floor while his head still rests between my fucking palms.
Silence fills the corridor again.
“Well,” Cal says calmly behind me. “The numbers are climbing.”
I let Damien’s head drop unceremoniously to the floor, and it hits the marble with a thud.
But I’m no longer focused on Damien or Cal; I’m looking at the door beside me.
Because I know, on the other side, is Blair.
Blair
A sob escapes my chest, and I bury my face into my Kane doll’s hair.
But when a harsh sound cuts through the room, I freeze.
I hear another loud noise echo through the penthouse, and my heart starts pounding wildly in my chest.
Footsteps are outside the door, and I stare at it in anticipation, fully expecting Damien to come back inside and grow angry that I didn’t follow his instructions.
My mind races, my heart beats against my rib cage, and I make a concerted effort to hide the doll under the bed while I stare at the door, bracing myself for whatever is going to happen next.
For a second, nothing happens.
And then the lock clicks.
It’s such a small sound, but it might as well be a gunshot.
I stare at the handle, and it twists violently before the steel door explodes inward. The hinges scream as the door tears open so hard it slams against the wall.
And then Kane is standing there, his eyes wild as he scans the room.
For a moment, I can’t breathe.
He looks godlike as his large frame fills the doorway—his broad shoulders, his dark clothes, his thick muscles beneath his jeans and T-shirt. And then his gaze meets mine. His eyes are filled with an intensity that makes my entire world narrow to him and only him.
Kane. He’s here. In New York. In this room.
My brain tries to make sense of it, but my body moves before the thought finishes forming. Without hesitation or fear or doubt, I run straight to him.
For a split second, I’m terrified he’ll disappear—that I imagined him, that this is just another trick my mind is playing after everything that’s happened.
But he doesn’t disappear. He meets me halfway.
His hands close around my arms, and he pulls me to a stop, his eyes moving quickly over my face, my neck, my shoulders. His gaze travels down my arms, my waist, my legs.
“Did he hurt you?” The question comes out rough. “Did he fucking touch you?”
“No.” My voice breaks as the tears spill faster. My whole body is shaking. “No.”
And the moment the word leaves my mouth, something in him shifts.
His arms come around me instantly, pulling me tight against his chest, and a flow of tears starts up again, streaming down my face as I bury my face into his shirt and breathe him in.
The relief is overwhelming, consuming every nerve ending in my body, and I fist my hands in the front of his shirt. My hands shake and my knees tremble and the panic that’s been clawing at my chest since Damien locked the door is gone. Completely gone.
Kane’s here. He’s really here.
“I’m sorry,” I sob into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”