Bridges Burned (Mission Mercenaries #3) Read Online Marie James

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Bad Boy, Dark, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Mission Mercenaries Series by Marie James
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Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 77066 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 385(@200wpm)___ 308(@250wpm)___ 257(@300wpm)
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It’s Rocco, Julio’s younger brother. He’s pissed, as he should be, at his brother’s death.

Tears spring up once again, some because I’m getting closer to Alessio, but mostly because Elio didn’t care enough to stick around and keep me safe. The man who drops me into the backseat of a car without care if I’m injured in the process or not cares more for his criminal brother than mine cares for me.

It hurts me as much inside as I imagine Alessio is going to hurt me on the outside. If I had the ability to use my hands, I’d throw myself from the vehicle once we got on the interstate, but luck is never on my side, it seems.

Once again, no one speaks in the vehicle, but I can’t be certain that Alessio isn’t with us. The air inside is heavy, but that could be attributed to my harsher breathing as I try to stanch the part of me that wants to beg fruitlessly for mercy.

I learned long ago that begging is a lot like praying. Pointless.

I stiffen my spine as the car slows before turning right. I’ve taken this trip so many times, I can picture the men in the guard tower at the gate. In my mind’s eye, I can see the massive oak trees lining the driveway.

My bravery, the straightened spine, don’t last long. I try to curl into myself the second the engine is turned off.

I kick at whoever opens the door beside me, but their sinister chuckle tells me I didn’t hit them.

“Calm down, princess.”

I don’t recognize the voice, but I know better than to be grateful it’s not Rocco. Alessio has many men in his employ, and each one has the ability to be more brutal than the next.

The hood is pulled off, and I have to shake my head to get my wild mess of hair out of my eyes.

I stare at the man standing in front of me, my eyes pleading and begging, hoping he has a shred of decency. He gives me a sad smile as he reaches for the gag.

“I’m not going to hurt you.”

His words aren’t comforting because I know he won’t stop the people that plan to.

I whimper in pain, unable to hold that weakness in, when he pulls the gag down and removes the wad of fabric from inside my mouth.

“Better?”

“Thank you,” I say, instinct taking over.

“Can you stand?”

I nod, but he still reaches in and helps me out of the back of the vehicle.

“Let me untie your arms.”

My chin quivers as he turns me around, horrific thoughts coming to my head.

Like being gagged and bound when Hollis took me, it wouldn’t be the first time if this man bent me over the seat and lifted my dress only to threaten to rape me. Alessio would press his erection into me. Marcello was fond of running his hand between my legs.

I’m not bent over, however, and the man doesn’t touch me in any way other than to remove the bindings from my wrists before turning me back around to face the house.

Heavy feet carry me toward the front door, and I’m surprised I can manage to walk. I stupidly wonder if this is what men being led to the death chamber feel like. Being brave is stupid. I should run even knowing I’ll be caught within seconds. It feels like giving up.

The man beside me opens the front door, and I freeze, locked in place at the sight of Alessio standing there with a small smile on his face.

“Madelene! Thank God you’re okay!”

I feel like an extra in the Twilight Zone as he wraps his arms around me, burying his face in my neck, but then I see Lucian standing off to the side.

Alessio takes a step back, his huge hands on my shoulders as his eyes sweep my body. It’s all an act for his father. I have no doubt the man is well aware how mean his sons have been to me, but so long as it doesn’t happen in front of him, then who cares, right?

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” I say, looking in Lucian’s direction.

He nods once before turning away, his face just as blank as it always is when I happen to see him, which isn’t very often.

“You made it home just in time for dinner,” Alessio says, his jaw twitching as if he hates being forced to act this way.

My nerves are shot, my hands trembling as much as my chin when I attempt to smile at him.

“Run up to your room and get ready. I’ll see you in, say, half an hour?”

I nod, wondering if the man will give me even that to prepare for what’s coming.

He steps out of my way, and I don’t hesitate to angle toward the stairs.


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