Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116875 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 584(@200wpm)___ 468(@250wpm)___ 390(@300wpm)
“I need to tell her,” the Poisoner says.
“She’s on her way now.”
I pick up the contract. Written proof that I now possess her.
She won’t like it. She’ll fight me, but the contract is signed. It’s too late.
8
Kaiser
* * *
When Bella walks in, she stops short at the sight of her father surrounded by men in masks.
“Papa? What’s going on?”
I’m in the back, keeping still to blend in with the shadows. From here, I can see every microexpression that flits over her face.
Her skin pales, but she doesn’t scream. She takes in the sight of us in our masks with remarkable calm. First, she squints at St. James, then sweeps her gaze to Damien, who’s sitting behind the desk.
The tingles in my palm spread up my arm. My fingers flex convulsively.
“We had some business to discuss with your father,” Damien rasps. “And now you.”
She blinks. “Me?” With her slight build and pale white-blonde hair, she looks innocent as a girl.
Looks are deceiving. She belongs in a devil mask of her own.
“It’s okay, Bella,” her father says, but he sounds like he’s just been sentenced to death. Bella flinches.
“You’re lying.” Her shoulders hunch and her breath comes faster. She’s recognized the stakes.
If I don’t do something, she’s going to act rashly, and I have no idea what she’ll do. She’s wild, unpredictable. I’m not worried about her hurting us, but if she tries something, I’ll have to stop her, and I don’t want to hurt her. Or for her to hurt herself, fighting me.
Two strides and I’m standing over her. I’m over a foot taller, so her head tilts back.
“Calm down.” My voice is muffled in the mask. I lean down so she can look me in the eye.
It only takes her a second. “You,” she gasps.
“Me.” I can’t hide the satisfaction in my voice. My hand aches, wanting to touch her, to claim her, but I make myself wait.
Her posture relaxes. “What are you doing here?” she demands. A bit breathless but more annoyed than frightened. She reaches out slowly, and her hand hovers in the space between us, pausing as if she’s waiting for me to stop her.
Normally, I would. I don’t let anyone touch me. But I don’t stop her. I let her fingers brush my face and draw the mask down.
A sweet honey scent fills the air. Little Miss Psycho isn’t afraid. She’s aroused.
Or maybe both. Little shivers run over her body.
I want to scoop her up and carry her away. Out of this office and away from her father and my brothers’ prying eyes. I don’t want Damien or St. James seeing her reaction to me. But they already have. St. James, in particular, sees everything and will turn a person’s weakness against them. That’s how we turned Fraternitas from a gang of street kids into a secret society that rules an entire city’s underworld.
I don’t want them looking at her. She’s mine. The more I think about it, the more I like the idea. The thought of owning her has become so satisfying. She’s the only one in the world who’s ever gotten under my skin. When I saw the chance to own her, I took it. St. James came up with this whole arranged marriage contract. I should hate it, but I like the idea of owning someone fully.
She’ll hate it, and I like that even more.
“I’m here to sign this.” I show her the contract. “A marriage contract between me and you.”
She looks dazed. She shakes her head a little, confused.
Her whole world is crumbling. Once she finds her footing, she’ll fight me, and I can’t wait.
I’ve already won.
I can’t keep the triumph out of my voice when I explain, “The deal is done. You’re going to be my wife.”
She reacts immediately, jerking back. Instinctively, I grab her. I set a hand on the juncture between her neck and shoulder and grip her trapezius. The upper trap muscles hold tension.
I love the way she relaxes, responding to my touch. I squeeze the tight muscle, and she sighs, her mouth going lax.
Her skin is perfect. It looks so soft, I wish I could feel it, but even though they’ve been tingling lately, my fingers are still too calloused, too numb. Usually, I hate touching bare skin with my dead man’s fingers, but with her? I can’t get enough.
My cock is trying to beat a path out of my jeans. She’s practically purring as I hold her by the scruff of her neck. My perfect little kitten.
I want to pet her all over.
She’s not afraid of me, either, not really. Most women can sense the danger lurking inside me. Even the ones who are drawn to my good looks end up fearing me.
But Bella is different. She might be able to survive me.
A better man would feel sorry for what I’m going to inflict on her, but I feel only excitement.