Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
He swings around to glare at me, and I take a step back because I have never seen this look of menace on his face before.
He stalks over to me, and I take another step back.
“If you don’t give me that ring, then I’m a fucking dead man.”
All I can do is stare at him. “What does that even mean?”
“It means a lot of bad men are after me, and if I don’t get out of town, then they’ll kill me. That ring is my plane ride out of here and a chance to start anew.”
“Why, what have you done?”
“Stop with all the fucking questions and tell me where the goddamn ring is. I know it’s not on your finger. I checked while you were sleeping.”
An awful tingling sensation crawls up my spine. He was watching over me when I was asleep, looking to see if I was wearing my ring? What was he going to do if I were wearing it, try to take it off me while I was asleep?
Inwardly, I shiver.
Something is very off with him.
But I push the feeling away because how dare he break in here and demand the ring back.
I cross my arms and narrow my eyes. “Why should I help you?”
Surprising me, he grabs my arm. “Did you not hear me? I said they’re going to kill me.”
I stare up at him. He’s changed. The Wilson before would never have laid a hand on me. Then, I didn’t really know him, did I, so perhaps, given time, he would have shown this side of him during our marriage.
I try to yank free, but his grip is too hard.
“Get your hands off me,” I demand through gritted teeth.
But he doesn’t. Instead, he shakes me. “Don’t make me ask you again.”
“I’m not telling you anything until you take your hands off me.”
He shoves me against the wall and grabs me by the throat, squeezing until I see stars.
“Listen to me, you fucking bitch, these men mean business. If they find us, they’ll gut the both of us and dump us in the fucking harbor. Now tell me where you put the ring.”
Fear funnels through me.
“Let me go,” I grit out.
But he doesn’t let me go. Instead, he squeezes harder, and within seconds, my head feels like it’s going to pop.
“Where is it, Brooke?”
I can barely breathe and choke on the words. “I… sold… it…”
“You had better be lying…”
“Someone had… to pay… the caterers…”
He slams my head harder against the wall, and my brain rattles.
His fingers dig in deeper, and I feel my face begin to tingle. I wince and struggle for air. Oh God, he’s going to kill me.
“Did you hear what I said? They’ll kill us both.” He speaks rapidly, spit forming at the corners of his mouth. “And it won’t be a quick death, either. These men, they’ll make sure it hurts. They’ll chop off body parts and let us bleed out slowly. Might even have a bit of fun with that sweet, succulent pussy of yours as the life fades from your pretty brown eyes. Now for the last fucking time, where the fuck is the ring?”
I stare into the eyes of the man I once loved. Perhaps. Maybe. In hindsight, it seems that maybe I didn’t. Maybe that’s why it didn’t break my heart when he vanished. Perhaps that was the cause of my relief. My heart knew he was bad news and never wanted him in the first place.
Viciousness gleams in his wild eyes. My throat protests beneath the pressure of his fingers, and my lungs scream for oxygen. This is it. I’m going to die. My eyelids grow heavy, and I feel myself drifting away. But my eyes flick open when the front door bursts inward. My gaze darts toward the door, where a man in a very expensive suit and with a pair of very familiar dark eyes fills the doorway.
Lev.
14
BROOKE
Lev is wearing a smirk, but it vanishes when he sees Wilson’s hand around my throat, and a storm cloud sweeps over his face. His dark eyes sharpen on Wilson, then go back to me, and the scowl on his face deepens.
Wilson looks at Lev with utter terror. “What the fuck—" His vice-like grip on my throat vanishes, and I slump against the wall with a gasp. But without air, my legs are too weak to hold me, and I sink to the floor in a heap.
“Not the welcome I was expecting,” Lev drawls as he walks into the apartment.
“Mr. Zarkov… W-what… a-are… you… d-doing… h-here?” Wilson stammers.
Through the murkiness, I realize Wilson knows Lev. Confused, I rub my throat and try to figure out what the hell is going on.
“I think you know why I’m here.” Lev talks calmly but there is something terrifying in his voice. A sharp blade. A warning.