Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70209 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 351(@200wpm)___ 281(@250wpm)___ 234(@300wpm)
I got behind the wheel and took off, driving through the dark and quiet streets of Milan. There was no one else on the road because it was three in the morning. The only people out right now were those who operated under the law—or against it.
The cars that were at the Underground quickly scattered, retreating to their hideaways in different sectors of the city. I sped through the streets, ran the red lights, and made it out of the city within minutes.
The woman kept looking at her surroundings, as if she was trying to determine exactly where she was. She glanced at the speedometer a few times, checking our speed. Thankfully, she didn’t ask me a million questions.
I wasn’t much of a talker. “We’re in Milan.”
She turned to me, her lustrous hair falling around her shoulders as she turned her head. With big and bright eyes, her features were fundamentally expressive. It was not difficult to see her emotions because they always danced on the surface of her eyes. Her mouth was just as easy to read, from the way she pressed her lips tightly together to the way she chewed on the corner of her mouth. She faced forward again, dismissing what I’d said. “I’m not a cop, but I think you’re supposed to stop at the red lights.”
Again, she ran her mouth when she had no right to. She was a prisoner of the Skull Kings, and now she was a prisoner again—to me. Was she stupid? Talking back to me was the quickest way for her to get killed. “I just bought a woman like a piece of livestock. You think I give a shit about the law?” I kept my eyes on her and slammed my foot against the pedal, making the engine roar as the car picked up speed.
She didn’t look at me, her eyes glued out the passenger window. We’d just left the city, and now we were on a small road toward the countryside. Vineyards and farms were the only things separating Milan and Verona. My home was somewhere in between. “You just bought me for fifty million euros. You don’t need to impress me with the speed of your car.”
I laughed because it was ridiculous. “I don’t give a damn about impressing you, sweetheart.”
“Well, if you don’t want me to throw up in your fancy car, I suggest you slow down. I get car sick.”
“You just stood buck naked on a stage as you were sold off, vomit-free. But a fast car is your breaking point?”
“Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she kicked off her heels. “I’ll just throw up in your car, then. Makes no difference to me.”
I could buy another car at the drop of a hat, but this was the first vehicle assembled of the new model. I always kept the first ones manufactured, collecting them like trophies. So this car did have some significance to me. I didn’t want her vomit to destroy the Italian leather. And I didn’t want it to smell like barf forever.
I took my foot off the gas.
The car finally slowed down, reaching the speed limit.
She kept her gaze out the window.
“You’re welcome.”
“No, you’re welcome,” she hissed. “Now your precious car won’t be ruined.”
I kept one hand on the wheel and glanced at her, shocked that this woman was so brazen in her stupidity. Even if I really was some sick pervert who wanted to buy her for my own amusement, she was playing a risky game. She reminded me of Vanessa in that regard—but that wasn’t a compliment. “You want to die tonight, sweetheart? Because you’re acting like you have a death wish.” I glanced at the road again, seeing two headlights coming toward me.
She faced forward, her eyes reflecting the brightness from the approaching car.
“Cut the attitude. You might live a little longer.”
She finally shut her mouth, sitting in silence instead of releasing a smartass comment.
“Good. That’s better—”
Just as the oncoming car passed, she opened the passenger door and rolled out.
She jumped out of my fucking car.
In nothing but a jacket.
It took me three seconds to process what had happened, to slam my foot on the brakes and force my beloved tires to scrape against the pavement. Smoke rose into the air and my nose as the rubber burned, and my eyes started to smart with the smell and the rage.
That woman just ditched my car.
Jesus Christ.
I flung my seat belt off and pressed my thumb into the panel on the dashboard, making the center console unlock after it read my thumbprint. I pulled out the fully loaded pistol and jumped out of the car. “Get your ass back here.”
It was pitch black because we were away from the city. There weren’t even any streetlights along this road. The car that had just passed had bright red taillights. The driver probably didn’t notice the woman throw herself from my car since it was dark and we were speeding past each other in different directions.