Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
There’s a table on the far wall covered in what looks like tools. It’s hard to tell because the plastic warps everything past it, but I think there’s a hammer, a screwdriver, several clamps, and knives.
Lots of knives.
But what’s worse is the man strapped to a chair.
He’s young. Maybe a couple years older than me. His head lolls to one side and he doesn’t move when Valentin circles him. My heart races up into my throat as I realize this person must be my cousin, and I suddenly wish Valentin had never brought me here.
Now I understand why the basement was off limits.
His murder room is down here.
“Come, Karine,” he says, his voice a command I have to obey.
I step through the sheeting.
The man looks even younger up close. His hair is cut short and perfectly lined up. He’s got a stubbly beard coming in, and he’s wearing tight, trendy clothes. His nose is crooked and swollen, and his eyes are both bruised.
Blood stains the front of his Dolce and Gabbana shirt.
“This is Arsen,” Valentin says as he gently slaps the young man.
He groans and his eyes blink as he raises his head. “Fuck,” he says and spits to the side. A gob of blood hits the plastic. “What the fuck?” He comes fully awake and alert, and he stares around him in a panic.
“Arsen, glad you’re with us again.” Valentin crouches down in front of him. “I’d like you to meet your cousin. Karine, come introduce yourself.”
I feel sick, but I do as he says. I walk behind him and stare at Arsen, and I’m deeply disturbed to see some of my mother in him. The same cheeks. The same eyes. I have a little of that in me, too.
I remember him from the country club. He seemed distant and terrifying back then, but here in the middle of this hell, he’s just another young man. A distinctly and strangely familiar young man.
“Hello,” I say, feeling nervous for some reason. I’ve never really met my family before.
“Fuck you,” he snaps and glares at Valentin. “You’re going to die for this. You realize that? My father’s not going to let you do this to me.”
Valentin hits him hard. I take a step back in surprise. Arsen’s head snaps to the side and he grunts in pain as my husband grabs his hair and pulls his head back, exposing his throat. A knife appears in his other hand, and he presses the tip to the center of Arsen’s throat, right on the tip of his Adam’s Apple.
“Understand something. The moment you are no longer useful to me is the moment I kill you. And believe me, I look forward to watching you die.”
Arsen gags and stares, eyes wild with terror.
Valentin releases him and steps away. The knife returns to the sheath hidden in his pocket.
Excitement rolls down my spine.
It mixes with a sick, horrified revulsion at this horrible place. But I can’t fight the pure, animalistic intensity I feel watching my husband dominate and threaten a member of my own family.
There’s something gorgeous and primal about the stink of fear in the air.
And I realize something in that moment.
Valentin is a terrifying creature and seems utterly without mercy or remorse. He’d happily cut my cousin’s neck ear to ear if it got him what he wanted, and I don’t think he’d lose even a second of sleep over it.
But I’m not afraid of him.
I should be. He’d treat me this way if it got him what he wanted. There’s no reason to think a monster like Valentin will always love me and want to keep me safe.
And yet I do anyway.
I trust him on a deep, fundamental level.
If I were a rational, normal person, I’d run screaming from here and never look back, except I like this.
I like the power and the terror.
I want more of it, and that’s what I’m really afraid of.
Maybe I didn’t only inherit my family’s looks.
Maybe I inherited their ruthlessness.
Valentin gestures at Arsen while staring back at me. “This is the man that burned your mother’s house down. This is the man that left her for dead.”
My heart races into my throat. “You’re serious?”
“He hasn’t confessed yet, but I have good intel saying it was him. We’ll get him to talk, if that’s what you want.”
I stare at my husband. “If that’s… what I want? Why does what I want matter?”
“Because he is a gift to you.” Valentin walks to me. He strides and each step radiates a powerful energy. It courses into me, rocks me deep to my core. He puts his hands on my hips and leans forward to kiss me gently, and even though it’s horribly perverse, kissing me in front of our captive in a room designed for killing, I love him even more for it.