Wicked (The Ruined Trilogy #3) Read Online Nichole Rose

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Insta-Love, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: The Ruined Trilogy Series by Nichole Rose
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Total pages in book: 38
Estimated words: 35213 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 176(@200wpm)___ 141(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
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As far as I'm concerned, that's more than worth what we lost.

It's worth everything.

Epilogue

Genesis

Six Years Later

Gabriel steps into the bedroom, closing the door behind him. I lay perfectly still on the bed, barely even breathing. His heavy steps cross toward me and then fall silent.

I feel his eyes on me, feel him staring at my naked body.

"Cristo," he groans. "You want to play, don't you?"

I don't respond. It's the only response he needs.

He groans again, softer this time. And then the teeth of his zipper creep down. He shifts around, undressing as quietly as he can. Pretending that he's trying not to wake me. Just like I pretend I'm asleep.

The bed dips as he sits beside me. One rough hand runs down my side.

"Bellissima," he breathes. I still know that one, but it's not the only one I know now. I've learned a lot of Italian over the years. Gabriel still lies about every word he speaks to me in the language, so I've had to get creative to figure out what he's actually saying.

Sometimes, Rafe's men help me. That always pisses Gabriel off. He hates when they repeat his words to me, as if I could ever think they came from anyone but him. As if I could ever want anyone but him to speak them to me.

Usually, I rely on translators and message boards. He says the sweetest things in Italian…and the filthiest things in English. It's a fascinating dichotomy. He's a fascinating dichotomy.

He's as complex and complicated as ever, but six years has changed him. He's let go of the past and of the demons that haunted him. He's learned to forgive himself and Rafe. Their relationship is stronger than ever. All four of the brothers are thriving, and the Valentino empire has gone unchallenged.

There have been bumps in the road. There are always bumps in the road for men like the Valentino brothers. But for the first time, I think they're all finally exactly where they want to be in life. They've all healed. They've all let go.

And so have I. I'm not the same person I was six years ago. When I think of Alexander at all now, it's not with rage or hatred. It was a sick, twisted man incapable of thinking of anyone but himself and his own desires. He used everyone around him, hurt everyone around him.

I may have borne the brunt of it, but I wasn't the only one. The city of Chicago has paid heavily too. Perhaps more heavily than I did. I lost my freedom and my father. I almost lost the man I love. God only knows how many other fathers this city has lost because of him and the weapons he poured into the streets. God only knows when the dying will stop.

Because of him and others like him, faith in the police department plummeted. It's been a steep climb out of a deep hole for them. They're still climbing. They will be for years to come.

The consequences of his actions are still creating ripples, and those ripples continue to expand. Who knows when they'll stop? Or where? So no, I wasn't the only one he hurt. Knowing that put a lot into perspective for me. It allowed me to let go of the rage and hatred because I don't want to let it consume me.

I lived long enough with his shadow hanging over me. I refused to spend the rest of my life with it haunting me too. Especially when he didn't win. He didn't take Gabriel from me. He didn't get away with anything. We're still here, still thriving…and he's rotting exactly where he deserves to be.

Gabriel's palm brushes across my nipple as if he's testing to see if I'm really asleep.

I don't move a muscle.

It's the same twisted game we always play. If it's wrong, neither of us cares. We play a lot of games. We've had six years to learn each other. Six years of love so intense it steals my breath and passion that burns so hot it still sets me on fire.

I know what makes him tick, what makes him crazy. And he knows the same about me. My husband is kinky, filthy…and so I am.

He brushes his thumb over my lips. "I wonder…" he breathes.

The bed dips again when he stands.

A second later, the head of his cock replaces his thumb. He runs it back and forth across my lips, teasing us both. I fight not to press my legs together, not to ruin the game. I'm already a dripping wet mess.

With him, I usually am.

There's a reason we have four kids. He's the reason. He kisses me and sets me ablaze. He touches me and I ignite. He's my favorite shade of night, my favorite part of hell.

He presses down on my chin, parting my lips slightly. The head of his cock slips past them.


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