Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
His body tenses, and he does his damndest to keep the cry back, but eventually, it echoes in the room. He lets out a frustrated roar as he struggles to keep his footing from the blood spilling down his heel.
“You don’t want to die, but you won’t talk,” I observe. “One hell of a predicament you find yourself in.”
“Fuck…” he sucks in a strangled breath, the noose tight around his throat, “you.”
Pressing the blade to the back of his knee, I slash through the skin and muscle, rendering his left leg useless. His roar fills the air, leaving the stale taste of impending death on the back of my tongue.
Taking a step back, I let my eyes drift over the Sicilian. “Where is Manno holed up?”
His lips part, and I slowly shake my head in a silent warning for him to think twice before he answers me.
Still, he sticks to his guns. “Fu… ck… you.”
I watch as he tries to keep himself from hanging, his right foot struggling to take his full weight.
The fucker manages to evade death for almost five minutes before his foot slips from all the blood. In his panic, he kicks the crate over, his legs trash, his arms strain against the zip ties. Gasping, his face turns purple.
It takes another two minutes before the fucker’s body jerks through his last futile gasps for air.
“Drop him in the alley where you found him,” I order. Setting the knife down, I walk out of the room.
I didn’t become as powerful as I am by showing mercy. Mercy is for the weak.
Chapter 15
Tess
Standing in the green room, I let out a sigh of relief when Jake, another student, calls, “End scene.” He grins at me. “Tess, if production doesn’t work out, you should go into acting. That was really an awesome scene.”
Walking to where he’s standing behind the camera, I wait for him to rewind, and as I watch the footage, I try to look from a third person’s perspective. “I hate watching myself,” I mutter.
“We all do,” Annette adds, scrunching her nose as she comes to watch as well. “But Jake’s right. You’re good. With all the footage you got of the city, the final product is going to be awesome.”
“Will you be okay processing today’s recording with the footage we have?” I ask her. “I have a program that should do the trick and can make some time to help.”
Everyone has their part to do for the project. I wrote the screenplay with their input and had to get footage of the city. Annette will put it all together, with our input of course, and Jake will add the sound.
Annette’s face flushes with excitement. “I’ll work on it this weekend. Oh, I wanted to show you the final product of the footage you sent me.” We all head to where she pulls her laptop out of her bag, and when I see what a good job she’s done, especially with the water scene, I grin from ear to ear. “Damn, that’s awesome.”
“I had great footage to work with,” she passes the compliment back to me, then a curious expression flutters over her features. “By the way, who’s the man?”
“What man?”
Annette fast forwards to the scene of Nikolas, then lifts an eyebrow at me.
Damn.
“He’s… family.”
I watch as her curiosity morphs into interest. “Single?”
“No,” the word pops from me before I can even think of something to answer. Going with the lie, I add, “Married. Three kids.”
Then it hits that I don’t actually know whether Nikolas is in a relationship.
God, what if he is?
Worry gnaws at me because I seriously don’t like the idea that I kissed another woman’s man. I need to find out if Nikolas is single or if he’s seeing someone, just to soothe my conscience, of course.
“Shoot,” Annette mutters. “His wife is one lucky duck.”
“Are we calling it a day?” Jake asks.
“Sure. I have to get ready for a function anyway,” I mention as I gather my bag and place the strap over my shoulder. “Same time, Monday?”
“Yeah,” Annetta agrees. “What function are you going to?”
I have no idea. I just know I have to be there at seven p.m. “A family thing.”
So much for these events only being once a month.
Walking out of the green room, we head toward the exit. I see James hovering down the hall and suppress a sigh. Whenever people at school ask why I have guards, I never know how to answer.
When Grant comes into view, Jake takes hold of my arm. “Have a good weekend, Annette.” She grins at us as if she knows something I don’t, then Jake looks at me and asks, “Do you have some time free this weekend?”
“I planned on recording some more footage tomorrow. Why?”
He grins at me. “Want some company? A fresh eye might help.”