Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
“Nonno!” I scream, kicking and hitting with everything I’ve got.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” my captor snaps right before my feet leave the floor, and I’m hauled over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.
My hands slap against his muscled back, but I can’t kick because his arm locks my thighs to him. My eyes keep touching on bodies, blood, and weapons, and it all makes me wiggle and thrash harder.
I hear a car door being opened, then my body’s flying backward as I’m thrown onto the backseat. My captor’s hand cups the back of my head as if he’s trying to ensure I don’t bump it, which is weird because it’s clear he plans on killing me after he’s done raping me.
With wide eyes and more fear than I can handle, I stare up at him as he braces himself over me.
“This is for the best,” he mutters right before his fingers wrap around my neck, and the airflow to my lungs is cut off.
Debilitating fear and panic have me clawing at his arms, my body bucking like a wild horse.
“Shh…” he hums as if to soothe me.
My terrified gaze is frozen on his. As I’m dragged into the bottomless pits of fear, knowing I’m about to die, he looks calm.
As if he’s not killing me but doing me a favor.
As if he’s not starving my lungs of air.
My heart thrashes in my chest.
A strangled sound escapes me as my arms grow numb, and my body becomes heavy until it refuses to move.
Still, I keep staring at him, pleading with my eyes.
Don’t kill me.
I haven’t had a chance to live. There’s so much I wanted to do. I had so many dreams.
Please. Don’t kill me.
He leans closer and presses a kiss on my forehead. “Go to sleep, Little Rose.”
Tears escape my eyes, and his lips catch one again.
My eyelashes flutter closed, my lungs screaming.
My body is screaming.
My soul is screaming.
No.
Chapter 2
Viktor
Blyadʹ.
When I agreed to help Nikolas take down the Sicilians, I sure as fuck didn’t think I’d be kidnapping a girl. Whenever I watched the house prior to the attack, I never saw her come and go.
My loyalties lie with the Priesthood, a group of mafia heads created by Luca, who’s my best friend and the head of the Italian mafia, and today the Sicilians paid for constantly invading Liam and Nikolas’ territories.
It’s nothing more than business.
But I sure as fuck didn’t expect her. Little Rose.
I had to sedate her once we boarded the private jet to keep her from fighting.
As I carry her limp body into my house, I know I’m going to get a ton of shit from my family for taking her. It was either that or one of us killing her, and I wasn’t about to let that happen.
Why?
She’s nothing to you.
The answer comes instantly like a slap upside the head.
It’s because she was so fucking scared. Her fear stirred something in my chest I’ve never felt before. Something I don’t want to think about.
My house is situated on a property the whole family shares, so they’re bound to find out Rosalie’s here. The estate holds three mansions – my parents’ place, Uncle Alexei’s, and mine. There are also a couple of guesthouses that are mainly used by our guards.
My father and Uncle Alexei are inseparable and ran the bratva together before I took over. The bratva is mine by birthright as my grandfather, on my mother’s side, ruled before he died.
Over the past two years, I’ve worked my ass off to make a name for myself. Sure, I was feared because of the legacy my family created, but now grown men piss themselves because everyone knows there’s nowhere you can fucking hide to get away from my wrath should you incur it. Having a conscience is for the weak, so if someone gets on my wrong side, I’ll hunt them down, and I won’t hesitate to torture, maim, and kill anyone who dares to oppose me.
Rosalie’s cheek rubs against my shoulder, her eyes drowsily fluttering open and closed as she struggles to fight the sedative.
Again something too tender for the likes of me stirs in my heart.
“Shh…” I murmur. “Everything’s going to be okay.”
The girl was one hell of a surprise. An exquisite one at that. When I saw her lying on the bed, her perfect ass on full display, her toned legs crossed at the ankles, my first thought was that she looked like a wet dream come to life. I hardened in a split second.
Then she looked at me, and I swear the ground shook beneath my feet with the force of a thousand earthquakes.
Rosalie Manno is nothing short of an ethereal vision.
She makes me feel fucking overprotective but also brings out a dark side I never knew I had. It’s different from the one that doesn’t think twice about ending a life.