Total pages in book: 36
Estimated words: 33526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33526 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 168(@200wpm)___ 134(@250wpm)___ 112(@300wpm)
“I know you would never hurt me,” she states, her shoulders pulled back as if sure of her statement.
Before I can blink, Alaric’s hand is around her throat, pinning her against the wall, holding her steadfast. “If I ever catch you snooping around us again, I’ll gut you like a little fish and leave you flapping on the ground, gasping for your last breath. Have I made myself clear?”
Ella’s eyes widen, and she nods. Pure fear replaces the sorrow lingering there a moment ago. Her hands move to her throat, her nails digging into Alaric’s flesh, desperate to free herself.
“Use your words, Sis. No misunderstandings.”
“Yes, I promise,” she sobs.
Alaric grips her hair, yanks her back, and opens the door. He tosses her on her ass in the hallway. “Now, stay the fuck out.”
With a slam, he walks back to the liquor and pours another glass of whiskey.
Asher grabs the glass from his hand. “You can’t keep her safe if she’s petrified of you.”
Alaric glares at him. “If she fears us, she won’t trust us. If she doesn’t trust us, and since her father isn’t here anymore, she’ll have no choice but to take my suggestion to get herself the fuck away from here.”
Chapter Three
Ella
Tears cascade, drenching the pillow beneath my face. But the sad part of my current predicament is that I don’t know if I’m crying from the loss of my father or Alaric’s cruelty. Maybe it’s both, or perhaps it’s self-pity that my world has been turned upside down.
Things were so clear before, and now everything is a murky gray, causing confusion, frustration, and dread. When it was my father and me, the simplicity of life was a lulling comfort. There was no disturbance in my life, just a silent river of boredom that shielded us from the outside world.
At first, my new stepbrothers were unnerving. When my father announced that he’d married and his new wife had children, I expected three little boys, not three attractive, vital men.
My interactions with them were charged with a strange energy, and I didn’t understand why. Their brazen good looks and golden tongues ignited my senses and lit fires inside me. I didn’t even realize that fire was simmering under the surface. I was a cliché, a good girl dipping her toes in a world much darker than she was used to.
Each man offered something new and exciting. Alaric was charming, a vision of every girl’s fairytale, a handsome prince who perceived me as the pinnacle of perfection. I realized how special these three men were within a week of them moving in.
“What are you doing, Princess?”
I jumped at the deep baritone. Alaric Tate, my new stepbrother, walked around like a sleet ghost, unsure of his place or what he wanted. I’d been watching the three men who’d invaded my space carefully as they claimed what used to belong to me. They’d built a place in my lonely world.
I gazed up at him. “I hate that word. Princess. What does it mean? People throw it around as a compliment and an insult. I’m curious, Alaric. What’s your intention for using the word?”
Alaric’s expression was contemplative. He didn’t speak right away, processing my question. I liked that.
He tilted his head, and the corners of his lips lifted in a slow smile, revealing two dimples. “Depends on what you consider a virtue and a vice. Does the word ‘princess’ unleash images of a bratty, entitled little girl, or does it make you an exquisite beauty whose radiance and grace should be revered and relished?”
Alaric slid onto the bench beside me. His hand grazed mine as he dug into the clear bag he was holding and ripped off a piece of bread, tossing it to the ducks in the clear water beneath a blue sky.
“You have a wicked tongue, Alaric Tate, and I don’t know what to think about it.”
Alaric placed his other hand on his heart and gave me a mischievous wink. “I solemnly swear every word I utter is the truth and nothing but the truth.”
My face grew hot, no doubt painting my cheeks red. I tried to swallow, but my dry throat made it difficult. “Would you admit to being a liar?”
My heart sped up as his tattooed hand moved to my face. It paused in mid-air as if he were contemplating his next move. He chuckled as his fingers grazed my face and tucked my hair behind my ears. “I have no reason to lie, Princess. Lying is the weapon of the weak, and I’m not weak.”
“So you’ve never lied in your entire life?”
Alaric pulled his hand away abruptly, leaving me cold. He pushed his hand into his hoodie pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. “Nope.”
I stared in wonder as he pinched the filter before gliding a cigarette from the disheveled pack with broken edges. He placed the cigarette between his full lips, lit it, and took a drag—a simple action that transfixed me. We sat silently as I watched the smoke curl from his mouth and dissipate in the crisp air.