Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 108119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
I hated him.
I hated all of them.
I hated that Andrei was going to do this, I hated that I needed him to.
Most of all, I hated that the Andrei I knew and loved would not come back from this.
What was left of his innocence, I would take with me to the grave.
And in that moment, I hated myself more, for being born a De Lange, for wanting him as much as I did.
For loving him despite the warnings not to.
He raised the whip.
I saw the hesitation.
And then Chase spit out a curse and pulled me to my feet, only to throw me down against the concrete as he pulled out a knife and held the tip beneath my chin. “Should I bleed you dry while he watches? Is that preferable, Andrei?”
I could feel Andrei’s anger pulsing around us as Chase very delicately pressed the tip of the knife into my chin.
I was afraid to move as tears streamed down my face.
It stung and then it burned as he pulled it away. “I could carve her a new face, Drei. Now raise the whip.”
Chase picked me up with both of his hands, my feet dangled. He was a strong man; it wasn’t lost on me that he could break me in half if he wanted.
He could have scarred my entire face, could have broken my jaw. Instead, he gave warnings and drew small amounts of blood. If that’s how they would torture me, I’d rather die.
His eyes flashed as he stared down at me. Andrei couldn’t see our faces at this angle. Chase didn’t blink. “You always like to play with fire?”
“You always stab women?”
His lips twitched and then he was hauling me back to my feet and shoving me in front of Andrei. “Do it, or one of us will.”
The guys’ faces were all masks of indifference, like they were thinking about their next meal, or the last soccer game they watched.
Did anybody even care?
And then I remembered.
Blood.
The mafia was blood.
Spilling it was as natural as breathing.
I spread my arms wide and locked eyes with Andrei. “Do it.”
He raised the whip.
And I was no longer Alice.
I was six thirty-two.
And it was my sacrifice to make.
CHAPTER FIFTY-TWO
Andrei
Blood and dirt caked her face.
Chase had done that.
One day I would murder him for it.
I would smile.
I still grabbed the whip, I imagined the usual audience watching, waiting as I clenched it between my hands.
It came down hard on her snowy white skin. It ripped into her flesh and pulled it from her body — and I could almost smell their arousal even though nobody was in the rooms, nobody would bid on a corpse. A corpse I created.
Hell was waiting for me.
But I still saw heaven in her eyes.
In her beautiful blue eyes.
I didn’t deserve her trust.
Or her sacrifice.
Her arms were shaking as blood streaked down them.
Her eyes begged me for life.
Even when she knew, even when I told her again and again — all I had to offer was death.
She’d committed the ultimate sin.
Trusting me. Loving me.
And I’d embraced that same sin and called it my own as I made her mine. Her only mistake was coming back, was thinking that my heart would choose her over blood, over loyalty.
I slammed the whip down on her right thigh.
I hated myself with each hit.
Her blood was too precious to spill.
I was spilling it.
When would it be enough?
She cried out my name.
And I remembered.
I remembered then.
There was once a time where my name fell from her lips in ecstasy in wonder — in love.
But she didn’t know — I wasn’t capable of it.
This was my legacy.
This was my destiny.
A tear slid down her cheek, falling onto the rivers of blood streaming down the concrete.
Soon the blood would be gone.
The concrete clean.
And her life would be sacrificed.
Not by my hand.
But hers.
Because that was the deal wasn’t it?
“Kill me,” she’d whispered between kisses.
“Yes,” I agreed as I tasted her sweet sin for the last time. “I will kill you.”
Her thank you fell on deaf ears.
So, I raised the whip again while she smiled.
It was the smile that shocked me to my core.
The way she directed it at me like I was deserving when I was her killer, her monster, her captor.
Flashes of our time together filled my mind until I was shaking with fury at my own predicament.
I dropped the whip to the ground and grabbed my gun. Only this time I pointed it at my own temple.
The guys all took a step forward. “What the hell are you doing?” Chase said in a lethal tone.
“You want blood?” I pounded my chest with my left hand. “Then take mine! Sinacore and Petrov, the last of the line, is that fucking royal blood good enough for you to let her go?”
Chase held out his hand to me. “Andrei, think about this—”