Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82579 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Now I’m going to make his final moment agony.
“Please,” she says, crying as she tries to drag me back. “Please, Lev, don’t do it. Let him go. For me, please, let him go.”
I stare at Carmie. The darkness roars inside of me, begging me to finish the worthless piece of meat. But Carmie’s crying, and she looks so fucking pretty like that, and what’ll happen if I really do murder Emory Smith in his own office? The bratva will cover up most crimes, but I don’t know if Valentin Zeitsev will spend his capital on this.
But most of all, she wants it. That’s enough to break my grip on his wrist. It’s enough for me to stand and release the pressure on his throat.
Emory rolls onto his side, coughing and gagging as he gasps for air.
“Are you okay?” I ask her, reaching out.
She flinches back. There’s fear in her eyes, and I can’t blame her.
“I’m fine. But we should go.”
I shake my head. If she doesn’t want me to touch her, I won’t. That’s not the kind of man I am.
I like pain. And I like to hurt. But not innocents like Carmie.
“Not yet,” I tell her and turn to Emory. He’s trying to drag himself into his chair. I kick him hard in the ribs. He rolls, knocking a statue from a bookshelf. It hits the floor and shatters as I grab his face and shove it down into the glass shards.
“Please,” he moans.
“I’m not going to kill you this time,” I say to him. Blood wells up from tiny cuts in his cheek and forehead. “When I leave this office, you’re going to clean up. You’re going to drive yourself home and get sober. And then you’re going to call me at Fed tomorrow morning to tell me that you’re happy to work with whoever’s running the shop.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll do it. I’ll do it, Lev, I’m happy to do it.”
“If you don’t, I’m going to come back, and I won’t bring Carmie with me next time. Do you understand?”
He lets out a wicked sob and closes his eyes. “I understand. Please, Lev.”
I want to keep hurting him. I could break the rest of his fingers, one at a time. Instead, I release his face and turn to my wife.
She’s staring at me, her face pale and her eyes terrified.
I shove my mask back on and smile.
“I think I owe you some new fencing equipment,” I say, feeling happier than I’ve been in a long time as I walk past her to the elevators.
Chapter 19
Carmie
Iknew. That’s the worst part. I knew he was capable of something like that, and I was still terrified when I watched it happen.
Lev’s good at hiding his violent side. That’s the darkness he keeps hidden behind that charming mask. And that’s all Lev is most of the time: masks over masks, layers of charm and good looks, all hiding the creature lurking under the surface.
The monster that broke Emory’s fingers and would’ve choked him to death right there on the man’s office floor.
The monster that casually walked out as if nothing had happened.
I knew, and it still terrified me.
The second we got home, I locked myself in my room. Not because I thought he’d hurt me—he’d only lost his cool to protect me back there—but more because I don’t know how to process what I just watched.
Lev in all his beautiful glory breaking a human for touching me.
That’s what I keep seeing as I try to sleep. Emory crossing a line, and Lev hurting him for it.
Lev delighting in that pain.
That’s the sickest part of it all—his smile never slipped even as he cracked Emory’s fingers back and broke the bones like sticks of chalk.
In the morning, I hurry downstairs to make my small cup of coffee. I was plagued by dreams of my husband pulling my hair and burying my mouth with his and fucking me with vicious glee, and I liked it in my dream.
I liked it when I woke up, too.
“You’re avoiding me.”
I yelp and look over at where he’s sitting at the table. He’s in an exercise shirt, damp with sweat, and he’s quietly reading the paper.
“Who still gets a physical newspaper?” I ask, trying to lighten the situation.
He smiles. So charming and handsome. “You’re not going to talk about it, are you?”
“I don’t really know what to say.”
He nods slightly and stands up. “Let me show you something.”
“Lev—”
But he’s already walking away. I watch him, trembling. Would he hurt me here? Would he do to me what he did to Emory? I don’t think so, but I don’t really know. Natalya thinks Lev’s a good person. Alex thinks so too.
Do they know about his darkness?
I follow reluctantly. Lev heads down into the basement, and I wonder if this is a murder sort of situation as I trail after him.