Total pages in book: 145
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 148397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 742(@200wpm)___ 594(@250wpm)___ 495(@300wpm)
I swallowed hard.
I had no idea what to say.
For a moment, I wanted to run again but then I found myself saying, “I get that asking you to trust me when I’m a Master and you’re a slave isn’t easy. But we’re more similar than you think.”
“Yeah, okay.” His rolled his eyes. “Sure.”
“I have shit in my past that I can’t undo as well. The things I’ve participated in…” I shuddered. “I’ll take most of them to my grave.”
“What could you have possibly done to say we’re similar?”
I stiffened. I didn’t want to tell him, but words tumbled anyway. “There was no one to protect me either. No one to stop him. I cried as I hurt women who’d only ever been nice to me. I had to live with those same women afterward and rightly deserved their hate. Not one of them dared look in my direction. No one talked to me, hugged me. The loneliness of being ostracised—” I cut myself off with a sneer. “Fuck. That’s not important. What is important is—”
“You were raised in a place like this?” Peter sniffed, his face guarded.
“Not as grand or with lots of guests, but yes.”
“So you admit it’s not just a desire but in your fucking genes? And you think you can ride off into the sunset with Ily and what? Forget who you are? Put aside all that shit? All this power?”
“I know enough of my needs that I never want to break her. I need her to fight back—”
“Wow, you truly are sick.” He almost spat on my feet. “I hope she leaves you. She deserves better.”
“I agree. She does deserve better.” A wash of remorse chilled me. I snorted with disbelief as I confessed. “And if she chose you over me, I wouldn’t stop her.”
“What?” He eyes popped wide. “Y-You’re saying you’d step aside?”
“I am.” I fought the jittery mess of my pulse. “But I would also fight like hell because what you saw is true. I would cut out my heart if she wanted to dine on it. I would cut out the heart of all those she asked me to. I’m twisted, I won’t deny that. But what you didn’t see is…when I love someone, I become the most faithful son of a bitch. And Ily loves you. Therefore, I’ll do whatever it takes to help you.”
He staggered a little. “She said that? That she loves me?”
I sighed.
I really, really didn’t want to hurt him.
I tried not to say it.
I said it anyway. “As a friend. A cousin perhaps.”
“A cousin?” He winced. “She said she loves me like a cousin?”
“Fuck’s sake.” Raking both hands through my hair, I glowered. “No, you fool. We don’t exactly lie around talking about you. I have no idea how she feels about you. I just…I saw the way she looked at you before Emerald Bruises started. You were high and hurting and her heart fucking broke for you.”
“Because she loves me…”
“Because she cares about you. Look, I have to go. I don’t trust anyone in this godforsaken place and can’t think straight when she isn’t near me. Are we doing this or not?”
“You think a sob story of you as a kid is gonna earn my trust?”
“Merde, you’re hard work.” Crowding him, I held out my hand. “You need a vow? Fine. I’m in. I’m all fucking in. I’m doing this—not for you or for her—but for my brothers and sisters who I failed when I was younger. I’m in, alright?”
Peter never broke eye contact.
His worry and fear faded a little as he looked at my outstretched hand.
“Come on, Peter…” Ticking time scratched against my nerves. “Do we have a deal or not?”
Swallowing hard, he studied me.
He saw me.
Judged me.
And then, he softened.
His hate turned to hope.
His loathing to trust.
And for the first time in my pitiful life, I felt a brotherly bond.
The same bond I’d tried to cultivate with Q.
I hated that it was with the man who wanted what I had, but…it also made sense.
We were the same in that respect.
Slowly, he inserted his gloved hand into mine.
We both winced at the contact.
Both cringed away from the sensation of signing our lives over to each other.
“It’s Paavak,” he said with a proud edge, shaking my hand. “Paavak Chauhan.”
“Henri Mercer.”
His lips twitched. “And you’re not a cop.”
“Better.” I grinned and broke the shake. “I have no laws I need to follow and already have blood on my hands. What’s a little more?”
Stepping into me, his voice dropped to a quieter whisper. “When the time comes to kill Victor…I-I want that right.”
My eyes flared. “Fine.”
“In that case…” Stepping back, he nodded at the cook beckoning us to hurry. “So far, we’ve made twenty-three small bombs and hidden them in the bedrooms that aren’t used. We’re on track to making eighty of the damn things, including a few sketchy ones that Mollie doesn’t want to make but Rachel says are needed if we want to cause structural damage. We have a few cleaners on our side and most of the jewels. We haven’t told the new slaves yet for obvious reasons. We have two gardeners working for us and most of the kitchen staff. And are currently trying to figure out what guards could be turned. If you can get a guard or two on our side, then it would mean we had a few guns for when the time comes.”