Total pages in book: 107
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100086 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 500(@200wpm)___ 400(@250wpm)___ 334(@300wpm)
“Stay fuckin’ down,” Steve hisses as someone else pulls my hands back, and when I sense the barrel of a gun against my head, I’m conscious enough to relent.
I spot another man inside, deep in the back of the van, but my vision is still blurry, mind scattered.
“The… fuck?” I manage to choke out right before I’m gagged, and I curse myself. I should have screamed when I had the chance. Fuck.
“Go on, pull him in,” says a voice I know, but from where?
I bit my tongue when I fell, and my mouth tastes of blood, but when two men flip me over and pull thick straps across my body, I know they have me. It’s too fucking late.
There are no Christmas lights in this back yard, but as the stranger leans forward, his face emerges into the faint glow of the lamp attached to the ceiling inside the van.
My heart stops.
Simon fucking Kemper?
What. The. Fuck?
I know for a fact that Corvus paid off my debt to the casino this fucker owns. I try to mumble that through my gag as I stare into his eyes. When I met him at the casino bar, he seemed like just any other elegant guy, but now he gives off absolute psycho vibes.
“What’s that?” he asks, grabbing my chin. “Sorry, I didn’t catch that.”
Okay. So he is a psycho.
He chuckles as he scoots in front of me and I consider kicking him in the nuts, but there are three other guys here, possibly all armed, and they haven’t killed me yet, so I rather take my chances and stay meek for now.
This must be a misunderstanding.
Simon stares at me. “I bet you’re thinking that this is a misunderstanding.” Yep. “You paid off your debt after all, so why would I torment you so?” He pouts and pats my cheek. “Well, maybe because you were supposed to be dead not swanning around Corvus Van der Horn like you deserve to be here.”
Is he… jealous over Corvus? I’m struggling to put the puzzle pieces together, so I can only hope he’ll tell me himself, since he seems to be in the mood for speeches.
In the corner of my eye, I see Steve rolling his eyes, but the opinions of staff don’t seem to matter to Simon, because he grabs a thin piece of wood resting on the floor of the truck and smacks me with it. It does hurt, but the flimsy plank breaks, and I can hear the noise of withheld laughter even over the thudding in my ears. Too bad that money speaks to those goons louder than respect.
“You thought you were too good for me?” Simon hisses, his face twisted with disgust. “Nobody says no to me! And if the Van der Horns can’t finish the job, I’ll do it myself!”
The reasons behind my time as prey, and the assassination attempt finally click in my dazed mind, but I can’t believe a man this serious would bother with all this over the petty matter of wounded pride.
The audacity of it. The self-importance. I frown to communicate my thoughts in the only way I can. Is this guy really trying to get me killed me because I wouldn’t fuck him? When I refused his advances, he tried to pay me, and that only made me want him less. I’ve done crazy shit in the past, but sex has always been something for fun, for me.
None of this matters right now.
If he isn’t planning to kill me outright, a much worse fate awaits me at his hands wherever we’re going.
But most importantly, this is my fucking wedding day, and I will not have Corvus thinking I deserted him.
Simon pats my head as he straightens up with a smirk I want to punch off his face. “I prepared a cozy little pen for you with my pigs.”
What. The. Fuck.
Chapter 32
Corvus
Am I happy? Yes. Am I also stressed? Very much yes.
The guests are seated in the pews, colorful light illuminating them through the stained glass, and gray marble angels look over us from the sides of the church. Dalton outdid himself with the location choice, and my mother made it happen. The past month has been a mixture of absolute chaos, love, and mindblowing sex, I’m glad to be here, about to marry a man I can trust. A man I cherish, who makes me laugh more than I have in years, opens me up to the world, and who’s held my hand through all the challenges of the past weeks despite how I plucked him out of his life for my selfish enjoyment.
What I’m stressed about is that he’s not here, and he’s not picking up his phone.
I try to act normal, because we’re ten minutes late now, and Uncle Karl is really big on punctuality, but I can’t help noticing the curious stares, the awkward smiles, the worried grimace on Killian’s face as he whispers into Damen’s ear.