Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115400 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
“It does,” he agrees before nodding toward Ezekiel behind me. “Are you finished with him? Or would you prefer I keep him alive?”
I shrug my shoulders. “It’s your call. I’m done with him. I don’t plan on ever coming into this cell again, as long as he occupies it, of course. As for you, if you feel what’s been done here today isn’t sufficient, then by all means, have at it. I don’t care if you wish to keep him down here for an hour or a lifetime. It’s up to you.”
His eyes sparkle with excitement. “It seems I’m the one who needs to fear you, not the other way around.”
I scoff. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Killian DeLorenzo.”
He laughs before a wave of seriousness washes over him, and I feel a heavy weight drop into the pit of my stomach. “That was Cristian on the phone. We found them, Angel. Sergiu and Monica. They’re in South France in an underground bunker,” he tells me. “Now, I know you’ve already had a very long day, so the choice is yours. You can stay here and heal, or you can come with me. Either way, my jet is ready to take off.”
My brows arch. “You have a jet.”
“Of course I have a jet,” he says. “I have three.”
“Three?” I scoff. “Why the hell do you need three?”
“Why wouldn’t I need three?”
I gape at him, realizing he’s absolutely serious. He simply doesn’t comprehend how three jets would be excessive, and all I can do is smile at him as I look up into those dark, deadly eyes. “You know, I’ve never been to France.”
“You’d like to come?”
“Do I get to dress for the occasion?”
“Absolutely.”
“And will you take me to see the Eiffel Tower afterward?”
“If you wish.”
“And the Colosseum?”
His brows furrow. “That is in Rome, Angel.”
“Oh, I know.”
He lets out a breath, clearly working out my game plan. “Of course, Chiara. Any other stops you’d like to make along the way?”
My grin is bigger than ever before, instantly sending an ache deep into the apples of my cheeks. “Why don’t I make you a list?”
Killian laughs and lowers his hand to my back before leading me out of the cell, neither one of us bothering to stop and glance back at the mess we’ve left behind. We make our way out of the cells and back to the main house, when we pass the doctor who spent the early hours of the morning stitching me back together and offering me the little pill that could prevent any unwanted pregnancies from my night of hell.
Killian stops and meets his curious gaze, clearly knowing there’s more work for him to do. “Cell three. Find a way to keep the bastard alive without removing the sheers and that big property you’ve been looking at for your wife and kids is all yours.”
His eyes bulge out of his head. “Certainly, Sir,” he says before pausing and thinking better of it. “How long will he be required to live?”
“I’ll return in . . . a month. I have business to attend to tonight and then I’ll be taking Chiara on a European vacation. See what you can manage in the meantime.”
The doctor is wise enough to nod and do everything he can to please Killian, but there’s no denying the dread in his eyes. I’m certainly no doctor, but it doesn’t take a genius to realize that those garden cutters will cause some pretty insane infections, and considering the likelihood that they punctured the stomach or intestines, the chances are high. But hell, if there’s a possibility of getting the new home his wife and children have been wanting, then why not give it a try? I know I would.
The doctor scurries off, realizing the quicker he can start dealing with his new assignment, the better his chances are, and I’m left to go pack a bag. “A month? Really?” I ask as Killian helps me up the stairs.
“Does that seem too soon? I can make it two, but I can’t guarantee Ezekiel will still be breathing when we return, and I really haven’t finished with him yet.”
“You’re insane,” I tell him. “A month is huge.”
He grins, and as we reach the top of the stairs, I take off into my room. When I walk into my closet, I turn my ass back around. “Killian,” I question, striding back out into the big seating area between our rooms. “Where are all of my clothes?”
“My room,” he says, watching me from an armchair. “It didn’t feel right having you so far away. You’ll sleep in my bed from now on, Angel. In my arms. Nowhere else.”
A flutter blooms through my stomach, quickly spreading throughout my body and leaving me a trembling mess. “I’d like that,” I tell him, and then before I get carried away, I stride into Killian’s bedroom and prepare to put this war to rest for good.