Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77485 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 387(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 258(@300wpm)
He held me effortlessly, gently placing me amidst the scattered remains of our dinner.
“Alex—”
He silenced me with a soft, chaste kiss, his fingers tenderly caressing my face. “You're the most stunning thing I've ever seen. That's been true since the first moment I laid eyes on you.”
“And when was that?”
“Why don’t you try and figure it out?”
He stepped between my legs and ran his hand through my hair, fisting a handful of it, tilting my head back and ensuring I couldn’t look anywhere but at him. There was a sting of pain, but it didn’t hurt. I knew that could change in an instant. I remained still, as if caught by a predator any movement would provoke, my heart beating so fast I feared it was seconds away from falling out of my chest.
"I'm going to share something with you, something most people don’t know.” He paused as if to make sure I was paying attention despite my inability to move.
"My relationship with Melanie didn't end at the butcher's block. It ended a few hours before that."
“W-what do you mean?”
He pretended to think about his answer, marginally tightening the grip he had on my hair. “I sliced her open while I was buried inside her. I started at her belly button and stopped at the center of her throat.” He gave me another light kiss. “I was determined to remove all the pieces of her I didn’t like, but after I took out what bothered me the most, I realized I wouldn’t be satisfied until I’d made her an empty sack of flesh.”
My heart stuttered. I gave up trying to form words after my fourth attempt. His admission hung in the air, heavy and undeniable and voiced without shame.
“You killed her,” I breathed.
He gave me a hooded, almost boyish smile. “‘Killed’ is a rather tame word for it, but yes.”
He regarded me for a moment and whatever he saw on my face had him slightly softening, warm assurances infusing his words as he began to massage the back of my head soothingly. “Don’t cry, deliciae. I won’t ever do that to you. I found her naivety to be fucking pathetic. I adore yours. Why do you think I’m sharing something so personal? It’s so you know how much you mean to me.”
I shook my head and tried to put some distance between us. “Stop saying that.”
“I won’t stop. You are pulcherrimum thesaurum. I’m going to love you madly.” His declaration, spoken with such conviction, left a tumult of emotions swirling within me, an unsettling blend of fear, disbelief, and a dangerous flicker of a desire that sickened me to my core after his confession.
It shouldn’t have been in the realm of possibilities. His arms caged me in, his dominant nature an overwhelming force as he drew my body against his. "It’s your turn now. Tell me, what's your type?"
His sudden shift in topic caught me off guard. I stammered, taken aback. "I... I don't have a type."
His smile widened, a dangerous, mesmerizing curve that sent a chilling sensation racing down my spine. "Wrong answer, deliciae. I'm your type," he stated firmly, a smoldering intensity in his eyes. "For transparency’s sake, the only thing sparing Nicolette is that she stopped you from making a grievous mistake."
More confusion clouded my thoughts and I shook my head, struggling to follow his meaning or the rapid pivots of his conversation. He leaned in closer, his breath warm against my skin.
"The man you saw across the street today while you were at the confection shop. Why were you staring at him?"
My heart skipped a beat, the memory of the familiar face from the resort flashing in my mind. How did he know about that? I remained silent, a sense of dread settling in my stomach. As he continued to scrutinize me with piercing eyes, I struggled to maintain a neutral expression.
Nicolette's warning echoed in my head, confounded by what he’d done to his previous wife. And that was only the first one. Where was the second?
I scrambled for words, not believing for a single second that I wouldn’t become the missing third if he felt I had wrong him somehow. "I was just curious why he was standing out there. I hadn’t noticed men around while we were window shopping. Not any that belong here, anyway," I explained, hastily adding, "Not that I was looking at anyone else. I wouldn’t."
Alexander's expression remained unreadable as he scrutinized me, calculating.
This was insanity.
He’d just divulged he had brutally murdered his wife because he didn’t like something about her, and now we were delving into what felt like an interrogation because I’d looked at another man. The shift was jarring, leaving me off balance and uncertain.
His low, sudden laugh was devoid of any genuine warmth and only heightened my unease. As he released my hair, his hands found their way to my thighs, sliding upwards beneath my dress with a deceptive gentleness. His touch sent a mix of alarm and involuntary responsiveness through me.