Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91809 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 459(@200wpm)___ 367(@250wpm)___ 306(@300wpm)
“I want to see her die for myself,” Everleigh continued, tone light and cool as could be. “Do this and your freak boys are safe. No one touches them. No one even gives them dirty looks. The Dumont brothers won’t die of anything except old age.”
Leon Dumont drew his gun and leveled it on my chest. The expression on his face was no different from the one he had when we drank tea.
“No, wait!”
Dumont flicked off the safety.
“Tell me why,” I screamed. “Just tell me why!”
“Why?” The first crack in her amused, happy mask appeared. “It’s simple. I’ve been waiting almost ten years to make that bastard pay for what he did to my father. For years I’ve searched for him. For years I couldn’t get close. Then, Daddy’s little girls enrolled in Regalia University.”
Daddy’s little girls? Jack?
“I’ve waited so long,” she hissed. “Finally, he’s going to come. He can’t hide from me anymore.” The smile she flashed me turned my stomach. “Don’t let it get to you that you’ll die without ever meeting your father. I promise, I’m sending him to hell right after you.”
She jerked a chin at Rafael’s father. “Do it.”
“Forgive me, Miss Sinclair-Bowden. I truly wish there was another way.”
“Mr. Dumont, don’t—”
Bang!
Pain ripped through my chest.
Darkness came for me again, and didn’t let go.
Chapter One
“...hadn’t come to this...”
“...no other way...”
“Winter.”
Voices mingled in my head. Teasing me. Taunting me. Disturbing my rest.
Wasn’t I promised eternal peace? Or did my rage and vengeance earn me the other kind of eternity?
Was that why I kept hearing him?
“...must act...”
No, go away. I just want to sleep. Let me sleep.
“There’s no time!”
My eyes snapped open. Shooting up, ferocious pain ripped through my chest, tearing a cry from my lips. I hunched over, gasping and clutching my stomach.
Blue-and-black-paisley teardrops swam before my eyes. What is this? What’s going on?
I looked around, trying to breathe as my vision came into focus. I was in a small room. Bland forest wallpaper lined the space, its black and white a complement to the white cabinets, black wall lamps, and black-and-white carpet. Barring the bed I lay on, that was the end of the décor. The room didn’t even have windows—providing a clue to where I was.
One thing I knew for certain was that I wasn’t on campus or in the hospital. None of the dorms or frat houses at my rich school were this small or sparsely decorated. I also knew another thing—
I gently rubbed my chest, feeling the definite lack of a bullet wound.
—I’m not dead.
What happened? I was in the Gallery, there was smoke everywhere, and Leon Dumont...
I felt the punch through my gut like it just happened.
“...have me do...”
My head snapped up. That was one of the voices I heard in my dream. Wherever I was, I wasn’t alone.
Sliding off the bed, I took slow, measured steps to the door—wincing the whole way. I didn’t think my ribs were broken, but they were definitely bruised. Even the thought of breathing hurt.
I opened the door and met with a steep staircase. The voices got louder.
Climbing up, I found myself in a space three times the size of the one I was in. A panoramic wall of windows told me exactly where I was—on a boat in the middle of the ocean.
“What the fuck?” I croaked, stumbling on the same black-and-white carpet. Pressing against the window only provided more proof of what I didn’t want to believe.
I was not in Regalia anymore.
“Luna.”
I turned slowly, meeting Leon Dumont’s gaze.
He was seated at a small, diner-style table across from a man I didn’t know. I stared at them, not moving or breathing.
What was I supposed to think of this situation? Rafael’s dad clearly didn’t kill me, despite being ordered to by Everleigh Starling.
Everleigh Starling.
For the rest of the life she didn’t take from me, I’d ask myself how I was so incredibly wrong about her. There was no sign—none—that lurking beneath the surface of the pretty, pampered princess was a twisted maniac.
Leon stood up, making me step back. “My debt to you is paid,” he told the man.
The stranger nodded. “In full.”
Leon left through a side door, leaving the two of us alone. The man smiled at me.
“You must be hungry,” he said, crossing over to the kitchenette. “Please, sit. I’m useless in the kitchen, but even I can handle a turkey sandwich.”
I didn’t so much as twitch. “Who are you?”
“There’s plenty of time for that,” came the calm response. He was a handsome man with auburn hair flecked with silver; a hooked nose; and a strong jaw covered in stubble. I put him at midforties. He reminded me of someone, but my fuzzy head wouldn’t supply the image.
“Sit, Luna. I know from experience that rubber bullets still pack a mean punch.”
Rubber bullet? Is that what Mr. Dumont shot me with? He truly wasn’t going to kill me, even though Everleigh threatened—