The Wildflower (Ruthless Disciples #2) Read Online J.L. Beck

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, New Adult Tags Authors: Series: Ruthless Disciples Series by J.L. Beck
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Total pages in book: 154
Estimated words: 142764 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 714(@200wpm)___ 571(@250wpm)___ 476(@300wpm)
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I assume on my father’s order, but I keep my mouth shut. We’re getting closer to the finish line. All I need is a clear shot. The second he cuts in front of me, I’ll end him. Right here. Right now. My only regret in all of this will be dragging Bel into this mess, but there wasn’t any other option. I just hope she can forgive me afterward. This isn’t going to be easy to witness.

The weight of my choices weighs on me. Hurry. I want this to end. I need it to end. My nerves are fried, and I’m barely keeping myself standing upright. The sound of shuffling feet over marble meets my ears, and then the closed office doors fly open, slamming against the wall.

Both Bel and myself startle at the intrusion. The goons my father usually has circling him like vultures stalk forward, two of them dragging a very pissed-off Sebastian. He thrashes his body back and forth, one of them nearly losing their grip on him. Fuck. The tension in my chest makes it hard for me to breathe, and I risk glancing at Bel, who looks fearfully between Sebastian and myself.

As if that’s not enough, a third guard comes stalking in behind them, his hand clamped tight around a man I recognize immediately. My mother’s old doctor. The one I went to the hospital to get answers from.

What the hell is he doing here?

He wasn’t a part of the plan. At least not my plan.

The guards release Sebastian with a shove, and he falls to the ground a few feet away from us. He’s pushing up off the floor and onto his feet in seconds. There’s no fear in his eyes when he makes a rush at the guard nearest him. The hulking giant gets him in a headlock, his thick muscled arm wrapped tight around his neck. “Give me a reason, pretty boy. I hate rich little assholes like you. It would be my pleasure to relieve the world of one more entitled rich kid.”

Sebastian’s deadly gaze finds mine as he claws at the man’s forearm. I give my head a little shake, trying to ward him off. We might still be able to salvage this, but only if he keeps it together.

My thoughts take a nosedive into darkness when my father takes a step toward Richard, then turns to face us. All the air in the room is sucked out when I see the glint of metal as he pulls out a gun. Of course. I should’ve expected him to have a weapon. I’m so fucking stupid. The plan is crumbling in my hands.

With a murderous glare, he trains the muzzle on Bel, and I instantly grasp the hilt of my own handgun, pulling it free of my waistband. I point the muzzle directly at his face with my finger on the trigger.

“If you want to play whose cock is bigger, I’m pretty sure I’m going to win.”

My father narrows his eyes at me. “I don’t know why I had any belief in you. I should’ve known something was up when you agreed so easily to my demand.”

All I can do is shrug. “What do you want me to say, Dad?” I hope he doesn’t miss the emphasis I put on the name. “You opened that door and pushed me inside. I don’t think you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for this day to happen.”

His eyebrow arches. “And what day is that, son? The day I finally put you in the ground?”

My father and I are lost in a stare off, our guns pointed at one another. It’s only a matter of time before one of us pulls the trigger. One of us is going to die, maybe even both of us. All I know is that when this is over, even if I die, the fucker is going to die too. Shouting off to the left of the room gathers both of our attention.

I turn my head the briefest just enough to get a peek at what’s going on, refusing to take an eye off my father and find Sebastian behind one of the guards, who is kneeling, a gun in his hand, the barrel pressed to the back of his head.

The other is standing as Sebastian holds a wicked-looking serrated blade against his throat. In the all-black sweater, jeans, and combat boots he’s rocking, with his hair falling forward over his eyes, he’s giving some serious badass assassin vibes right now. I can’t help but smile despite the fucked-up situation.

The air in the room becomes hotter, the tension rising, making it even more difficult to breathe. Focus. Don’t let him get to you. Movement catches my eye, and I swing my weapon toward Richard, who tucks his cards into his pockets before raising his hands palm up.


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