Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 76820 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 384(@200wpm)___ 307(@250wpm)___ 256(@300wpm)
Slowly, Rosalie stands up from the bed and glances at the window. It has me saying, “You’re free to go outside, but you can’t leave the property without my permission.”
There’s a flash of a dare in her eyes. It’s a nice change of pace from the grief-stricken look. “I’m allowed to go outside?”
A smirk curves the corner of my mouth up. “Yes, but don’t do something stupid because the freedom I’m giving you can just as easily be taken away.”
I can see her thoughts racing behind the brown of her irises, and I know neither of us will shut an eye tonight.
I don’t trust she won’t try to make a run for it, and she doesn’t trust me not to hurt her.
“When you’re done unpacking, come to the living room. I’ll make us something to eat.”
I leave the room and head back down to the kitchen. I haven’t eaten since lunch and am well past the point of starving. Taking ingredients from the fridge and cupboards, I start to make a chicken casserole.
I’ve always loved watching my parents cook and learned how to make food at an early age. It’s soothing and one of the few things that calms me.
My thoughts are inundated with Rosalie. In a matter of hours, I’ve gone from saying I’d keep her until she turns eighteen to deciding to hold onto the girl until she’s twenty-one.
Something about her has gotten under my skin.
I chop up the chicken with more force than usual.
Manno and his nephew had to die, but I hate that an innocent girl got caught in the crossfire. I might be unforgiving and ruthless when it comes to work, but I have a soft spot for kids.
She’s no fucking kid.
She’ll be eighteen in five days.
Still, she’s so fucking innocent, hurting her will be like ripping the petals of a blossoming rose.
Soon the aroma of frying onions, chicken, and mushrooms fill the air. I take a moment to pour myself a tumbler of vodka and sip on the drink while I continue preparing the meal.
When the casserole is baking in the oven, I feel the air shift. Seconds later, Rosalie slowly comes down the stairs. She moves cautiously like a deer, stopping every couple of steps. I can feel the tension coming off her in waves.
I continue wiping down the counter as I murmur, “You done unpacking?”
“Yes.” She inches closer to the sliding doors that lead to the patio until she stops in front of them, staring at the lit landscaped garden.
Picking up the tumbler, I walk to her and pull the doors open. A breeze caresses her hair.
She looks so fucking fragile in the oversized shirt and sweatpants, but at least all the fabric covers her body.
When I nod toward the patio furniture, Rosalie takes a deep breath and steps over the threshold. Her body is tense as if she expects me to yank her back inside at any moment.
She stops by the steps leading down to a path that branches out toward the other mansions and glances over the property. “There are other houses?”
“My family. You’ll meet them soon.”
Surprise flutters over her gorgeous features, and her eyes flit to mine. “You’ll allow me near your family?” Confusion chases the shock from her face. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll hurt one of them?”
A burst of laughter escapes me. “Good luck trying.”
“I’m talking about the women,” she mumbles.
I tilt my head. “It’s cute that you think you stand a chance against any of them.”
Rosalie glances at the other mansions and the lights shining from the windows, then wraps her arms around herself.
Her voice is nothing more than a fear-filled whisper when she asks, “Why didn’t you just kill me? Why did you kidnap me?”
I take a sip of my vodka and glance over the property. “Nothing I say will set you at ease, Little Rose.” I turn my gaze back to hers. “With time, you’ll learn I’m a man of my word. The Vetrovs and Koslovs don’t take pleasure in hurting women, especially fragile little things like you.”
More hope trickles into her eyes. “Is it true that Isabella Koslov takes down sex trafficking rings?”
“Yes.” A grin tugs at my mouth because my aunt is as badass as they come. Leaning back against a pillar, my gaze sweeps over the property again.
Even though I’m home where half an army is on guard, I’m always ready for an attack.
“You know a lot about my family and me,” I mention. “Were you training to take over from your grandfather?”
“No. I had nothing to do with the family business. ”
Grief tightens her features, making my hands itch to take hold of her so I can hug her until the heartache lessens.
She looks down at her feet, taking deep breaths as she rides out the wave of sorrow, then, with a trembling voice, asks, “What will happen to my grandfather and uncle’s bodies?”