Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56870 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 284(@200wpm)___ 227(@250wpm)___ 190(@300wpm)
“I can’t take this, Cain.” I shake my head. It cost five thousand dollars.
“You can. You’re worth it.”
I shake my head, but he gently pushes me off his lap. “Go show me, Violet. Show me what you’ve got. We’ve got the security detail tonight, and if you’re comfortable with it, you’ll take this with you.”
He’s got harnesses and holsters galore for me to choose from, so that shouldn’t be a problem.
I stand, new energy coursing through me with my new toy in hand. I tremble in anticipation as I slide the ammo into place. I’ve used his guns. I’ve borrowed guns.
I’ve never owned one.
I take in a deep breath, get into position, and aim.
Boom.
Boom.
Boom.
My God, it shoots as if enhanced with magic. Each bullet hits its mark with perfect precision.
This is it. I’m holding the weapon I’ll use when I kill my parents’ murderer.
Chapter Two
Cain
“Boss.”
I stare at the screen in front of me, half aware that I’m not alone but still too busy reading the latest report to really focus. Someone clears his throat. I look up to see Joe, my employee and friend, standing in the doorway with two steaming mugs of coffee. “You got a minute?”
I nod, shut my laptop, and gesture for him to take a seat. “Yeah, of course. Make it quick, though, Violet and I need to get ready for Monstraut tonight.”
“Ah, Monstraut,” he says with an air of dignity as if he’s narrating a high-end travel show on the Home and Garden Network. “Mandy Fontaina’s family residence, located in Manchester-by-the-Sea, the private, single-family home sits eighty feet about the impressive rocky shoreline so nothing but the Atlantic separates you from Europe. With elegant Italian travertine flooring, cathedral ceilings, and floor-to-ceiling windows, you’ll enjoy a touch of privacy with a flair of elegance.”
I roll my eyes at him as my phone chimes, and when I see it’s from Violet, I quickly tap it. A picture pops up with her standing in the middle of our walk-in closet wearing nothing but a little robe. Her hair’s in a towel. Joe’s words fade and I quickly glance at the clock to see if I have time to pay her a quick visit.
Fuck. I don’t.
Violet: What do I wear tonight?!
I smile and tap out a response.
Me: Something gorgeous that doesn’t let anyone see what’s mine that’s also versatile enough for you to run in if you need to.
Violet: Ah….
I put my phone down to see Joe looking at me with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. “Violet?”
I don’t bother to respond but just grunt at him. “What do you need? And how did you know that was Violet?”
He leans back and laces his fingers behind his head, untroubled by my irritated tone. “You don’t get a look like that on your face unless you’re talking to her.”
Whatever. So they’ve never seen me in love before.
“You come here to give me shit about being a human fucking male with a pair, or you got shit to say?”
At that, he sobers, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “We’ve got trouble. Armand’s talking shit.”
I blow out a breath. “I fucking knew it.”
Armand, a former employee of mine, has an ax to grind, and dealing with him won’t be easy. I let him go for fucking up. He had clear instructions but decided to go about them by orchestrating a car accident with Violet. He could’ve fucking killed her. And I won’t allow anyone on my team to do something so stupid.
Should’ve let him go years ago. Only reason I kept him around so long was because he saved my ass overseas, but I won’t let the asshole put Violet in danger.
Problem is, Armand knows shit I’d like to keep between us, most notably when it concerns Violet.
“Have you told her yet?”
I clench my jaw and look away, confirmation enough for him that I haven’t. I know exactly what he wants me to tell her. That I knew her long before she ever came here. That I looked into her background, had her fully searched, damn near stalked her before she ever knew I existed.
That I had her play directly into my hands so I’d have her all to myself.
“I need time,” I tell him. “I want her to trust me fully, and I want to tell her on my terms.”
He gives me a reluctant nod. We both know I don’t have time.
“If I tell her now, she’ll run. And I can’t have that, Joe.” I fucking hate that anyone else but Joe knows how this happened, that Armand’s got this evidence against me to blackmail me with, affecting the woman I’d give my life for.
But I hate that there’s something like a lie between us. I never lied to her, no. I couldn’t do that. But I haven’t told her the truth, which is as good as a lie.