Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148962 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 745(@200wpm)___ 596(@250wpm)___ 497(@300wpm)
After I brought them back to the island with me, I spent the morning torturing them, long after they gave me what I needed to know.
They were all spoiled, entitled fucks who belonged to what they called Imperium—a secret society at Laurelhaven University. It’s an invite-only organization of legacy students from wealthy alumni families.
Nate was an initiate, and Gabi was his intended target for their ritual. Needless to say, I spent the most time on him.
In the end, they had no loyalty to each other. They were all too eager to sell their brothers out, hopeful it might somehow spare them. They blamed each other for the plan, reasoning that she wouldn’t even remember what happened the next day.
I rewarded them for their honesty by testing the limits of the human body until their suffering reached its natural conclusion.
It tempered some of the rage I’d suppressed from last night, but not nearly enough. If I didn’t have other things to do, I might have drawn it out. But I also had to scrape the cloud feeds of every private security camera near the house on Lake Union.
It’s been thirty-six hours since I last slept, and as soon as I torch what’s left of these assholes, I’m going to crash.
“You want to give me a hand?” I glance at my brother, who’s busy typing out a text on his phone. I don’t know why he’s even hanging around here, but I may as well put him to work.
He grimaces as I grab one of the dead men’s ankles and yank him onto the floor with a thud. With some reluctance, Rafe helps me carry both bodies to the cattle incinerator behind the woodshed.
“I’ll never look at barbecue the same.” He gags.
I shrug, because I’ve been doing this for so long, I don’t even think about it anymore. Rafe is no stranger to violence and bloodshed, but he doesn’t have much of a stomach for it. This job isn’t for the faint of heart, but that’s why my father gave it to me. After years of trying to rewire my brain post-nuking, the doctors sat him down and told him they’d done all they could.
He knew if he left me in that facility, it would have been the end for me. I wasn’t going to live out my days staring at the same four walls.
I was still fucked in the head, but my father brought me back to the island anyway. Then he sat me down and gave me three rules.
Forget the life I had. Don’t leave the island. And do the job he chose for me.
For three years, I only left my wing of the house when it was time to work. He helped me outfit the woodshed and taught me what he knew, then left me to figure out the rest.
I became the most primal version of myself, learning how to hunt and kill. My father thought it would be good for me, and in a way, I guess it was. I was still a liability—prone to explosive mood swings, intrusive thoughts, and darkness that followed me like a shadow. But at least I had a purpose.
My days were spent in isolation and misery, living in chronic pain as I tried to organize the chaos in my mind. I didn’t trust myself around anyone, so I kept my distance, drawing pictures from memory and learning how to hack.
Over time, I gradually reintegrated with my family, accepting my role as the storm cloud in every room. But I grew restless. I wanted more.
I wanted something I could no longer have.
As I close the hatch to the combustion chamber and start the incinerator, it reminds me who I am.
Moody, volatile, and lethal.
It’s a stark contrast to the cotton-candy-pink world Gabi lives in. She might be a daughter of the Cosa Nostra, but she’s nothing like the rest of us.
She’s pure in a way I taint just by looking at her. Gentle. Nurturing. Sensitive. She respects all living things and feels guilty if she so much as injures a bug by accident. She spends her days dreaming and creating. I spend mine destroying and taking.
She’s sunshine, and I’m nightmare fuel.
“Hey.”
I glance up to find Rafe studying me. I let my guard down and forgot he was still here. The last thing I need is any of my brothers trying to decipher the thoughts running rampant in my mind. If they knew what they were, they’d stage an intervention.
“What were you thinking about?” he asks.
“What I’m having for lunch,” I answer blandly.
He releases a breath, finally getting to the reason he’s here.
“Angelo wants to talk to you.”
“Then Angelo should have come down here himself.” I traipse around the woodshed, lock the door, and leave the mess for later.
“You’ve been avoiding him,” Rafe says.
“I avoid everyone.”