Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 33078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33078 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
“They did die,” he reminds me.
“With honor.” I drop my head, a wave of emotions hitting me hard. I’ve never fought back. Fernando's hand comes to my chin to lift my head. “I should fight. I can’t marry that man. Bring his children into the world.”
“You’re not marrying a Frangione.” He drops his hand from my chin, and I miss his touch immediately.
“Why? Are they not paying the ransom?” I know this sounds ridiculous because I’m kidnapped, but a spark of hope blooms inside of me that I won’t be leaving anytime soon.
“They can’t afford it.”
I scrunch my nose in confusion. “Really?” I should be happy, but then what happens to me? As much as I hate my father, am I so easily disposable? “Can you ransom me to Antonio?” I’d suggested that before, but he hadn’t responded to the idea.
“What will you call their mother?” He changes the subject again.
“I was thinking Mirabal.”
“I like it.”
His praise makes me smile so big my cheeks hurt. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the best kidnapper?”
“Not the kidnapped.”
“Oh, just the people you kidnap for?” I can’t help but tease him.
“Something like that,” he grumbles.
“So you work for a certain family? Which?”
He doesn’t respond.
“Do you like this family you work for?” If he doesn't, maybe I could talk him out of all of this. Though that could mean his death. I’m sure he has some contract to follow through with. I don’t take Fernando as a man that is the head of some big family.
No, he’s a man of few words and brute force. He does things that need to be done or handled. I bet he is very valuable to some family out there. When we’d been at the store, people would practically run from any aisle that we entered. It hadn’t bothered Fernando, but it had me. People treat him differently without knowing what a sweet gentleman he really is.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” It’s strange. Some questions he’ll answer easily, while others he avoids altogether.
“Not yet.”
“Fine.” I huff. He already said he won’t hand me over to the Frangiones, but if he gives me back to my father, it would be the same as giving me to them. My stomach starts to turn thinking about going back there.
I know I haven’t been gone long, but everything is so different out here. I can’t go back. I told Fernando I would be the perfect kidnapped person, but I’m not so sure about that anymore. He’s given me too much freedom. A taste of something I’ve never had before.
Another plan starts to form in my head. Fernando might not want to marry me, but I’ve caught a few of the glances he’s shot my way. I remember his erection pressing into my back. He must have some kind of desire for me, even if it is small. What if I could make him fall in love with me?
“Fernando, can I ask one more thing?”
“Yes.” Oh, finally a yes for once.
“I want to choose something for myself. For it to not be taken from me.” I walk over to him, placing my hands on his chest. He tenses under my touch. I’m not sure if that’s a good or bad thing. I lick my lips. “Will you kiss me?”
7
BUTCHER
A kiss?
My palms go sweaty, my mind suddenly spinning. I’ve been asked for mercy, for a reprieve, for a quick death–but I’ve never been asked for a kiss.
I don’t think I can do this. I don’t even know how to do this.
She looks up at me, her doe eyes expectant as she glances at my mouth. Her palms on my chest send waves of heat through me, and I can’t seem to back away from her.
No one touches me. I don’t like it. Never have. Whatever situation I’m in, I’m the one holding the reins. Part of that death grip on control is that no one ever gets close enough to touch me. I don’t fucking allow it. I have them hogtied and bleeding before they ever get the chance to lay a finger on me.
But Bianca–she’s not my usual victim. She’s not a victim at all. In fact, I think I’m the one in danger right now, not her, because when she touches me, I go weak. So weak that I’d do anything to keep her hands on me, to keep her looking at me like I’m someone to be loved instead of someone to be feared. The desire she stokes in me is dangerous, and it’s the sort of raw weakness I’ve avoided all my life.
“You don’t have to,” she says softly, her gaze still on my lips like a touch.
Before I can think it through, before I can think at all, I lean down and press my lips to hers. Her breath catches in her throat, her hands curling against my chest.