Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 46899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46899 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 188(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
My throat closed. “I promise,” I said. It was the easiest lie and the hardest truth I’d ever spoken.
We didn’t rush after that.
There was no desperation, no urgency—just the slow ache of two people pretending this moment could stretch forever. Her laughter when I kissed her collarbone. The way she traced familiar lines on my skin like she was grounding herself. The way she whispered my name like it was something fragile.
I held her like I was trying to memorize the weight of her. Like if I pressed her close enough, some part of her might come with me and heal everything broken inside and see me for who I truly was, not who I was being forced to become. The past is an ugly beast, inconvenient when demanding justice.
Mouths fused together, I stripped off the rest of her clothes and settled between her thighs, shoving her far up on the bed until I could grab the headboard and sink into her. I didn’t warn her. I didn’t plan for it to be so intense so brutal, but I didn’t have patience left, not when it came to her, not when it came to being in her arms.
With a moan she wrapped her arms around me, followed by hooking her ankles behind my ass. No words were spoken as our bodies moved in sync. I silenced each cry and wished foolishly for forever, and when she found her release in my arms, I cupped her breasts then lowered my hands to her hips, memorizing those too. I gripped her by the ass and flipped her onto her stomach and rained kisses down her back. I took in each and every part of her skin, and when she was finally slick with sweat from me constantly kissing her, loving her, I grabbed my knife and tossed it to her.
“What?” She sat up, the sheet fell from her breasts. “You want to fight now?”
“I’m missing a name,” I whispered. “Yours.”
I gripped her hand around the knife and very slowly dug the tip of it into my skin above the Alfero crest. A small T.
Blood dripped down my waist onto the white sheet. At least, no matter what happened, anyone who crossed me would know—who I belonged to, body and soul, Tempest Alfero.
When sleep finally claimed us, it was tangled and quiet and cruel in its peace.
When I woke, the room was still.
For one terrifying second, I thought she was gone.
Then she shifted beside me, murmuring softly, her hand still curled against my chest.
I let myself breathe.
I let myself have that.
“It’s time,” I said quietly.
Her eyes opened immediately. No confusion. Just acceptance.
A knock sounded at the door. Clothes. Pressed. Perfect. Waiting.
She dressed in silence. I did the same. When she reached for my hand, I didn’t pull away. When we got into the car, I texted Phoenix that I showed the intel to her and then sent the screenshot to Cassian with a message saying. “Destroy the evidence of whatever the hell she did or I’m coming for you next. Phoenix will find you. Do not run. An exchange, is going to be made…”
We drove back to her parents’ house in relative silence. My phone didn’t go off but when I parked and checked it, Cassian had read the text. Good, let him be terrified that Phoenix was going to find him. I know I would be.
Laughter echoed off the walls when we walked in for brunch. I’d grabbed the small present from the back of the car and held it in my hand. Inside the box was a beautiful gun with only one bullet. A gift. My last. To Dante Alfero.
At brunch, more laughter filled the room. Plates clinked. Life went on, blissfully unaware of what was about to happen. Dante spent more time than usual talking to his family, smiling, laughing. Each inside joke made me sick until I wanted to puke. Finally, I was out of time. I stood and walked over to his side of the table.
I set the box down in front of Dante. Slowly, he opened it and smiled. “You bought me a gun.”
Everyone laughed and started chatting all at once about how may guns he had and his new shooting range.
“Show me,” I whispered. “I haven’t seen it yet.”
“Walk with me,” he said calmly and stood without hesitation.
As we passed Tempest, I tapped her shoulder and whispered. “Ten minutes.”
To her credit she didn’t burst into tears. She simply reached for Dante’s hand. Squeezed it and kept her vision focused on her mom, when she dropped his hand I knew she knew it was goodbye as a single tear slid down her cheek. But she’d promised. She’d sworn ten minutes. And I wondered if I’d spend the rest of the minutes I had in this life apologizing for asking her to make that promise.