Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84219 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Marcello,” Milo shouts by the sliding doors. “Boss needs you STAT.”
My eyes lock with Samantha’s terror-filled ones, and I say, “You’re safe now, baby. I’m going to have Marcello fix up your hand. Okay?”
She nods, her face way too fucking pale.
Marcello bursts into the living room, and when he sees Samantha, he asks. “What do you need me to do?”
“When Milo brings the first aid kit, take a look at her left hand.”
I lift my hand to the side of her neck and gently brush the pad of my thumb over the darkening bruises.
My rage spirals into chaos, and my body shudders again.
A strangled sob escapes her as her breathing speeds up. Rising to my feet, I take a seat on the couch and position Samantha on my lap.
Cradling my woman against my chest, I press my mouth to the side of her head. “I’ve got you, baby. You’re safe.”
Milo comes jogging into the living room and hands the kit to Marcello.
Holding my woman tight, I say, “Marcello is going to touch you. Okay?”
She nods before burying her face in the crook of my neck.
Marcello pulls the coffee table closer, and sitting on it, he carefully takes Samantha’s hand.
When he uses tweezers to pull the shard of glass out of her skin, I press kisses to her hair, whispering, “You’re going to be okay. I’ll take care of you from now on. Okay?”
Her breaths rush over my neck as heartbreaking sobs rip through her.
“She needs stitches,” Marcello murmurs. “I’ll have to give her an injection to numb her hand.”
I nod, then glance at Milo. “Contact the men Marcello sent to Samantha’s apartment and tell them to find that fucker.”
“On it, boss,” Milo says before stepping out of the living room to make the call.
I focus on my woman again and brush my hand over her hair. When Marcello gives her the injection, she doesn’t even flinch, which tells me just how fucking traumatized she is.
I pull her face away so I can see her, and the sight of the dark bruises around her slender neck makes a growl rumble from my chest. My body shudders again as the destructive rage fuming in me intensifies tenfold.
“I’m so fucking sorry, baby,” I say, my voice hoarse with emotion.
When Marcello is done taking care of her hand, he wraps a bandage around it, then says, “I’ll get her some antibiotics in case the wound got infected.”
I nod at him. “Thanks.”
Milo comes back into the living room and says, “You’ve got a text message, boss.”
I dig my phone out of my pocket and unlock the screen. Seeing a text from Milo, I open it.
Milo: When the men arrived at her apartment, the fucker was unconscious. I told them to bring him to the guesthouse. I’ll keep him in the armory until you’re ready to deal with him.
He sent the text because he didn’t want to talk in front of Samantha and upset her even more.
Franco: Thank you. Make him as uncomfortable as possible.
My gaze flicks to Milo, and he nods before he leaves the room again.
Holding Samantha tightly, I rise to my feet and carry her to my bedroom. I kick the door shut behind us before I walk to the bathroom.
Setting her down on the counter, I frame her face with my hands and capture her eyes with mine. “What happened, baby?”
She swallows hard and sucks in desperate breaths before she whimpers, “W-when I g-got home, he w-was t-there.” Her face crumbles and her body jerks with every sob as she cries, “F-Franco.”
I press her to my chest and engulf her in my arms. “I’m here, baby.”
It takes a while before she manages to calm down again. I let go of her, and turning on a faucet, I wet a washcloth beneath the water and wipe the cool cloth over her face and neck.
Marcello cleaned her hand, but there’s blood on her forearm. I clean every inch of her arm before dropping the washcloth in the sink.
Samantha’s breathing returns to normal, then she whispers, “I whacked h-him with a p-pan and managed to g-get away.”
My eyes lock on hers, and lifting my hands, I brush her hair away from her face. “You’re so fucking strong, baby,” I murmur with awe in my voice.
“He…he,” she gasps. “He t-tried to strangle m-me.”
Lowering my hand, I caress the side of her neck with my thumb. “But you stopped him.” Amazed by my woman, I say, “You fought the fucker and won.”
Her features tighten as she whispers, “I was so scared.”
Wrapping my hand around the back of her head, I press a kiss to her forehead. “It’s over. You’re safe now.”
She shakes her head, and her eyes darken with a fresh wave of fear. “I don’t know where he is. He can come back. He can try to kill me again. He –”