The Wrong Kind of Love Read Online L.P. Lovell, Stevie J. Cole

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: ,
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Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 82025 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 273(@300wpm)
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My temper flashes. I slam the door to my truck. She tried to escape and that paranoid as fuck voice in my head says it’s because she works for Tom.

I storm across the lawn, shoving Bob away as I fist her knotted hair. “I swear to God, woman, if I find out you’re trying to fuck me over…”

The prospect makes me so damn livid I can barely look at her, let alone finish the sentence.

She fights me, kicking and screaming as I drag her onto the porch and straight up the stairs to Caleb’s room. There’s so much going through my head, I can’t make sense of any of it. Why the hell would Tom send her here? Is she just a pawn? A trojan horse he intends to destroy as soon as he gets whatever information he wants? Or did she willingly come here? But what in the hell could she possibly give him besides where I live, and if he had his claws in Rich, wouldn’t Tom already know that.

I slam the bedroom door and try to temper my breaths before I give myself a damn heart attack at thirty-one. “Is that why you’re here, huh? Trying to fuck me over?”

“Me fuck you over?” She lets out a humorless laugh. “Says the guy who is holding me captive.”

I pull the gun from my jeans and the defiant expression on her face fades. Her pleading blue eyes sear through me, reaching for the depths of a soul I no longer own. I want to tell her there’s no bargaining with me, there’s no finding sympathy—I gave those things up years ago.

“Answer the fucking question, Victoria.”

Victoria

Everything from the set of his shoulders to the maniacal look in his eyes screams rage. He takes an ominous step toward me, and I nearly choke on my own heartbeat when he goes for his gun.

“Answer the fucking question, Victoria.”

Panic wraps around me as he moves closer, and I flinch when my back meets the wall. Trapped. Cornered. Just like the prey I am right now. Jude’s so close, I can feel the heat of his body, practically taste his anger as he stares down at me like I’m his most hated enemy.

He presses the cold barrel of the gun beneath my chin, and I fight tears as he uses it to tilt my head up. Adrenaline floods my veins, begging me to run or fight, to do something to save myself. But instead, I close my eyes, unable to look at him while he puts a bullet in my head.

Agonizing seconds tick by. When I finally dare a peek at him, all rational thoughts must have fallen to the wayside, because the only thing I notice are the tiny flecks of blue in the green of his eyes.

Why in the hell am I noticing how pretty the eyes of my soon-to-be killer are? I wonder if it’s some screwed-up kind of acceptance. Like my brain knows we’re past survival and is looking for a distraction from the inevitable.

The barrel twists. Sickness churns in my gut as I note he’s aiming for the base of my brain. It’ll be quick.

“Do not fucking lie to me. Why the hell are you here?”

Something troubled passes through his beautiful eyes. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part. Because this man is going to kill me. There’s no hope. No escape. Just him and me and a bullet.

Fear grips me so hard it’s all I can do to remain standing. “Your guy took me.” My voice breaks. Tears sting my eyes. “Euan told him to.” I can’t get enough air in my lungs as words tumble from my lips. “For a debt that isn’t even mine.”

“No! Fucking tell me why.”” The boom of his voice combined with the click of something on the gun sends me over whatever edge I’m clinging to.

I freefall into an all-encompassing dread, and my mind snaps. Warm liquid trickles down my legs, and I can’t even be embarrassed. I just stand here, my body shaking as tears roll down my cheeks. “Please...”

Jude’s eyes slam closed on a ragged inhale of breath. The gun slips, trailing over my throat. “I can’t fucking do this…” he whispers, dropping the weapon to his side as he backs away.

A strangled sob breaks from my lips, and I slump to the floor like a puppet with cut strings. I’ve never felt so small as I do right now, my life so inconsequential. I don’t know how I pictured impending death, but the reality has stripped me to the bone and ground me to dust.

Something crashes against the wall. My attention moves past the bits of broken lamp covering the floor to Jude. His gaze drifts from the wet spot underneath me, to my face.

The rage cycling through him seems to dissipate. “Get up.”


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