Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98583 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 493(@200wpm)___ 394(@250wpm)___ 329(@300wpm)
The world should never forget this.
I know what’s coming, and it isn’t fair to her.
But I’m a weak man. I’m pathetic in the end. I can’t tear myself away even when I know I should.
I want her too much. I’ve never craved a person like I crave her. Even after filling her and taking her as my own, all I want to do is stay in bed and breathe in her hair. Tingles run down my spine every time I catch a whiff of her scent. I have entire dreams about that smell.
Her breathing steadies. I’m not sure if she’s falling asleep or not. I hold her naked, small body against my own. Right until my phone starts to ring.
It goes to voicemail.
Then rings again. And again. And again.
Finally, knowing I’ve let it go on way too long, I pull myself away. What the fuck is wrong with me? I have responsibilities. I can’t ignore them just because I want to spoon my beautiful little bride.
She’s drifting and looks slightly startled when I answer.
“Who’s calling?” I grunt, annoyed.
Luca’s panicked voice puts me on high alert. “It’s Velvet Echo,” he says. I can hear yelling in the background. “Adriano, the place is on fucking fire.”
I jolt out of bed. “What are you talking about? How bad is it?”
“Really bad. The fire department’s on the way, but you gotta get down here.”
Shit. Fucking shit. A thousand thoughts run through my head. “Is anyone inside?”
“Staff was evacuated already. There wasn’t anyone else.”
“You sure they’re all out?”
“Positive, we double-checked.”
“Triple check. I’m on my way.” I hang up and race over to my drawers. I throw on more appropriate clothes while Lucy watches from the bed, her hair tumbling down her shoulders in waves, the sheets pulled over her chest.
“What’s going on?”
“Fire at the club.” I stalk over to her, grab her close, and bury my mouth with hers. I kiss her hard. “Don’t leave the house while I’m gone.”
“Okay,” she says, looking concerned.
I don’t have time to ease her mind. I run out of the mansion, get into my fastest car, and burn out as I race through the city. Normally, it’s at least a twenty-minute drive, but I do it in half that time, breaking basically every traffic law in the process.
I smell the smoke before I see it. And when I turn the corner, my fucking jaw drops.
The whole place is a raging inferno.
I park and shove my way through the crowd. I recognize some of the people standing around looking stunned. There’s the downstairs bartender, a few shot girls, and bouncers gathered in a little huddle. I move through them all and hear some whispers as I pass. Everyone knows who I am and what it means now that I’m here.
Luca’s standing closest to the building at the entrance to the side alley. He strides over, looking grim.
“We don’t know how it started,” he says, launching right into a report. It was found in the storage room where we keep all our liquor. The alcohol must’ve made the fire even worse because it spread very quickly after that. “Nobody saw who went in there.”
“My office,” I say, staring at the building. “Did you get the tapes?”
Luca’s face pales. “I was busy getting the staff out. Fuck, I didn’t think—”
I shove past him, running to the back door. He yells and comes after me, but there’s no other option.
The handle is warm, but not too hot. I yank it open and plunge into the smoke.
Years of work. Hours of careful, patient accumulation. The biggest cache of blackmail material in the whole city is in that office, and there are no backups. That’s the whole point. If even a second leaks into the public without a carefully controlled plan, then the whole effort becomes worthless.
I stagger forward, crouching down to suck in some clean air. The steps aren’t far from here, but the heat is incredible. I snarl as I kick my way over some debris and run upward. The smoke is bad, but the fire is worse down on the first floor. I’m able to walk mostly upright as I cover my mouth with the sleeve of my shirt and cough viciously, nearly doubling over. I make it back to my office and shove the door open with my shoulder.
I’m busy catching my breath. The office isn’t terrible. A cool breeze rushes across my skin. Someone must’ve opened a window. But when the hell did that happen? I never open that thing—
Which is when I notice him. A man standing near my desk. He’s frozen in the act of rifling through my drawers.
He’s tall and muscular. His hair is dark, and he’s dressed in all black. I don’t recognize him, but I know his type instantly.
Those tattoos. The way he holds himself.
Mafia enforcer.