In Their Hands Read Online Julia Sykes

Categories Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Crime, Dark, Erotic, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 54160 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 271(@200wpm)___ 217(@250wpm)___ 181(@300wpm)
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Forcing my full attention back to the task ahead, I pushed open the door and revealed the opulent ballroom where we would seal our fate. Only three people waited for us: the officiant and my two best men, Lorenzo and Gabriele. They’d driven in the car ahead of us and had arrived first; my closest friends had accompanied me to steal Dante’s bride.

Truly, it was a stroke of luck that we’d found her outside her house. It’d saved us the trouble of going in to get her, which could’ve turned violent, no matter my intentions. And I wasn’t at all certain that I would’ve had the willpower to prevent myself from attacking Dante and Giuseppe if I’d laid eyes on the traitors.

But we were fortunate, and no blood had been spilled.

I led Elenora toward the makeshift altar, her heels clicking across the marble floor and echoing through the empty, cavernous space. Once we sealed our union, I’d host an elaborate wedding reception, and the ballroom would be full of my allies—and my enemies who would’ve stuck a knife in my back. Even Giuseppe would be invited, and if he was smart, he’d keep his attempted coup a secret from my father.

I had no intention of telling my old man that his best friend had tried to betray his dying wishes for me to take control of our organization. Dad was too frail to even come downstairs for this ceremony. News of the scheme would be a dagger in his failing heart.

This wedding would bind Elenora—and Giuseppe—to me, and the whole affair would be forgotten.

My fingers firmed on Elenora’s arm as I thought of Dante. I wouldn’t forgive and forget his treachery so easily. I’d keep a close watch on him, possibly even eliminate him after my father passed and I took full control. But until my rule was established, I wouldn’t risk destabilizing the organization by murdering one of our most powerful capos. No matter how fiercely I wanted to watch the sadistic light leave his eyes.

We reached the head table at the far side of the ballroom, where fresh flowers were usually kept even when no one was using the space; my home was always kept in meticulous order. The pale pink blooms would have to be decoration enough for Elenora. She’d probably long dreamed of an elaborate wedding ceremony, but the four dozen roses were all that she would get today.

I frowned and decided to make more of an effort for her reception. She might not want to be my wife, but I would prove to her that I wouldn’t mistreat her as long as she behaved herself. She was being remarkably docile now, eyes downcast so that her dark lashes swept her too-pale cheeks.

I wished I could see her lovely eyes, but at least she wasn’t screaming or railing at me anymore; the spanking had tamed her for the time being.

The memory of her submission and pert ass bouncing beneath my hand sent a fresh pulse of lust through my body, and male satisfaction warmed my chest.

Yes, we could learn to get along well.

“Ready?” Lorenzo asked, dragging my attention away from my bride.

I glanced at my friend and nodded. Like me, he wasn’t dressed for this occasion. In fact, he and Gabriele were even more dressed down than I was. The two brothers—nearly identical with their black eyes and thick dark beards—wore simple t-shirts and jeans. I’d at least worn my usual button-down shirt, even if I was also in jeans.

This definitely wouldn’t be the fairytale wedding women like Elenora no doubt dreamed about, but it would have to do. Despite the fact that she was dressed in a simple black skirt and sleeveless white blouse, she still managed to appear composed and poised; the same way she’d always looked when I’d seen her at her father’s parties over the years. I’d have to be blind not to have noticed her beauty, but she was always too young and too demure for me. I liked a challenge, and I’d expected Elenora to be meek and quiet.

She was certainly docile now that I’d taken her in hand. But she’d fought me in the car. She’d been fiery in her defiance.

I shifted my grip on her elbow and took her hand in mine. Hers was so much smaller, her fingers long and delicate. They were too cold, so I brushed my thumb over her knuckles to warm them. Her remarkable eyes flicked to mine, wide with trepidation and a hint of confusion. She didn’t understand yet that as my wife, I would kill to protect her. She had nothing to fear from me.

The short, aged man before us began to drone on, the officiant sounding almost bored as he recited the marriage ceremony like a well-worn litany. Judging by his wispy white hair and breezy demeanor, he’d done this countless times.


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