Total pages in book: 217
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 207224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1036(@200wpm)___ 829(@250wpm)___ 691(@300wpm)
“Who else? I think you knew him best out of everyone here, right?” She looks around the table, as if she might get an agreement from someone. “Apart from me, of course.”
Fucking hell, Rose. I pinch the bridge of my nose, contemplating getting up and dragging her away.
“It was a tad breezy on the water today,” Zinnea practically screeches. “I took the water ferry to Martinique and there was a pod of dolphins that followed me the entire way. I lost my sunhat too.” She laughs. “The breeze took it right off my head! Honestly, I’m surprised it didn’t take my wig and lashes too.”
I bite my lip and reach for Zinnea’s hand, and Goldie smiles across the table at her. My aunt rolls her eyes and sinks some wine.
“Well,” Danny says, turning his glass of water slowly, his eyes never leaving Rose as she happily munches through the deadly curry, “we had sufficient reason—”
“I mean”—she laughs—“the prick hardly had the ability to make me come, let alone head up a deadly crime syndicate.”
Danny’s fists meet the table with such force, everyone’s curries leave their plates and splashes the table.
That’s it. Goodbye, my dear friend. I will treasure our friendship forever.
He stands abruptly, walks the length of the table, pulls Rose’s chair out, and takes her elbow. “Excuse us for a moment,” he grates, leading her into the villa.
And the moment the door slams behind them, Brad exhales. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck’s gotten into those two?” He grabs his Scotch and knocks it back.
“I don’t know,” Esther breathes, exasperated. “But she sure knows how to rub him up the wrong way. It’s not healthy, not for either of them.”
“He was pretty fucking smashed,” Otto pipes up. “Anyone know what happened? When we left them last night, he was still pissed but back in love with her.”
“He’s never out of love with her,” Goldie says. “Just out of patience most of the time.”
“I should have gone to work,” Zinnea says.
And me? I sit quietly while everyone tries to figure out what the fucking hell is going on, feeling James’s accusing stare on me. I peek out the corner of my eye.
“You know,” he whispers, just as a deafening bang sounds from inside. “You know what’s wrong with them.”
“There goes another crystal bowl.” Esther slips down her chair, shrinking, and I stand from mine.
But I’m immediately pulled back down by James. “No, Beau,” he cautions with so much warning, I’d be a fool to ignore him. So I lower, and the only reason I do is because I know beyond anything I’ve ever known that Danny would never physically harm his wife. Rose, however, will fight like a cat, pregnant or not. “You are not leaving this table,” he warns, his face serious, “until you tell me what the fuck is wrong with those two.”
5
DANNY
Too far. Way too fucking far. I keep reminding myself that she’s pregnant. I keep reminding myself that I love her. That she’s my wife. That I would slaughter anyone who ever laid a finger on her. That includes me, which is why I’ve spent the best part of the day wanting to slowly kill myself.
I place her roughly on a stool, rest my palms on her knees, get my threatening face up close to hers, and I snarl. “What have I got to do, Rose?” I ask. I have to get us both out of these moods before someone ends up dead. She’s hurt, I get it. She wants to punish me like she couldn’t punish the others because she knows she can. And I will take it all.
Her eyes are hard, her expression cut as she stares me down, her cheeks pulsing. “I said no,” she grates.
I close my eyes, hiding my flinch. “I didn’t hear you, Rose.” I was crazed, out of my fucking mind. Everything was distorted, and I heard only my mind screaming at me, demanding I kill.
Kill, kill, kill.
How the fuck can I make this right? “I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I’m so fucking sorry for not hearing you when you told me to stop. I’m so fucking sorry for making you feel like an object. For failing to end the man who’s threatening our happiness.” I take her cheek, stroking it softly. “I’m so fucking sorry for being one of them.”
She shies away from my touch, and it’s the worst kind of pain she could inflict on me. Rejection.
She can’t forgive me. And doesn’t that make me want to kill harder. Slower.
Lost, I gaze around the kitchen, wondering, what now?
Without her, what? Where am I?
Who am I?
I’m just a killer without a purpose. A man with nothing to fight for.
My eyes land on a small knife, the blade short for precision. “I love you, Rose,” I say quietly, taking a step back. “With every dark, dirty, corrupt, illegal, immoral piece of me, I fucking love you.” I take the knife, and her eyes widen.