The Devil I Hate (The Devil’s Knights #1) Read Online Jillian Quinn

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Mafia, Romance Tags Authors: Series: The Devil's Knights Series by Jillian Quinn
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Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96514 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 483(@200wpm)___ 386(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
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“I stabbed him,” I whispered. “I tried to kill Luca.”

Shame washed over me, sinking deep into my bones. I promised I would never hurt him like his father. And I did the worst thing imaginable.

So why was I here?

For revenge.

I clutched my chest, trying to still my rapid heartbeat. It hurt just to breathe, the ache so intense it felt like I’d stabbed myself with the knife.

In and out. In and out.

Five, four, three, two, one…

My head pounded, working in unison with my heart. I tried to kill my future husband. Because I thought he murdered my brother. But… I was there that night. Aiden was so close I could touch him. And then, nothing.

Did I kill Aiden?

Did I stab him, too?

Tears streamed down my face, and as I cried, I grabbed my stomach. It hurt so fucking much I wanted to rip out the pain, sobbing until tears soaked my shirt. Luca could have continued making my life hell from a distance. I didn’t need to come back to Devil’s Creek. Not unless he wanted to finish me.

I needed to leave.

Needed air.

I rushed out of the bathroom and opened my bedroom door, surprised the hallway was empty. Dressed in my lacy pink pajamas, I leaned back against the wall and blew out a deep breath. A cold shiver ran down my arms, and tiny bumps dotted my sweat-slick skin.

Where were the guards?

Where was Marcello?

Someone was always on duty, even when I slept. Luca made sure his men watched his prisoner at all times.

Was he letting me go?

Testing me?

I raced into my bedroom and grabbed the knife from the bed. If Luca put it there, he wanted me to remember. He wanted to play another game. And I would not lose this one. My Devil did nothing without reason.

He wants to kill you.

Watch you suffer.

Ignoring the blood, I held the knife in my sweaty palm and bolted down the hallway, headed toward the back stairwell. There were staircases everywhere in the mansion. It was easy to get lost in this prison on the bay.

The top step creaked beneath my weight. Taking my time, I used the railing for support and tip-toed down the stairs. Drops of blood hit the walnut floorboards, and I wondered if it was Luca’s blood. I would have done anything to find my brother. But murder? No, that was Luca’s kink, what he got off on. I didn’t have it in me to hurt another person.

Or did I?

Push a person to their breaking point, and they could do the unthinkable. Couldn’t they? Luca killed men because he was sick. He enjoyed inflicting pain and suffering. In his line of work, it was necessary. But I had no reason to hurt anyone… until Aiden disappeared.

When my bare feet hit the bottom landing, a chill rolled down my arms. I should have put on shoes. Oh, well. It was too late. I had already committed, made it this far. This was the closest I had gotten to leaving their estate since I arrived.

I moved through the Butler’s kitchen in the dark, using my senses to guide me. A sliver of moonlight shone through the windows, the soft glow illuminating a pathway. Following the light across the room, I made my way toward the main hallway. I turned left out of the kitchen and clung to the wall, hoping it would hide me from the camera’s view. The house had dozens of exits. I just had to find one without an armed guard.

At least the hallways were lit. The rest of the rooms were pitch black. I hated the dark and what it represented.

The nightmares.

Locked doors.

No escape.

Navigating the house in the daytime was hard enough. They had more rooms than a castle, a never-ending set of doors and mysteries to uncover. As I passed the sitting room, loud music blared through speakers, the bass vibrating the floor.

I stopped mid-stride and held my breath. Someone was in the room, but I couldn’t see shit. “DON’T CHASE THE DEAD” by Marilyn Manson floated through the room. My blood ran cold, sending a shiver down my back. This song… was Aiden’s favorite.

Aiden.

I choked back a sob and moved toward the sound, hoping it was my brother. The room was so dark, like my closet. The walls felt as if they were closing in on me, boxing me in. But I had to know.

“Aiden,” I muttered. “Are you in here?”

Arms wrapped around me from behind, and before I could scream, someone put their hand over my mouth.

I stood at the center of the circle, surrounded by dozens of men in black cloaks. Aiden kneeled before me and squared his shoulders as his eyes met mine. A long scar dipped beneath his blond hair that had grown back since the accident.

I offered him a new life, penance for his sins, and in return, I welcomed him into our inner circle. The only male heir to the Wellington fortune, his birthright was to join The Devil’s Knights ranks. But he fought his destiny every step of the way.


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