Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 82847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82847 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
I crawled over him and grabbed the handgun from the back of his jeans, just when another guy swarmed me.
I popped a couple right into his face, and he collapsed, blood spraying all over me.
There was another guy already there to replace him, and I squeezed the trigger, but all I heard were clicks because it was empty.
The guy gave me a terrifying sneer before he punched me in the face and made blood explode from my nose.
My knife was still in reach, so I grabbed it and slipped it between his ribs, twisting it exactly like Wolfe had told me to. I shoved the guy off me and then slammed the butt of the gun into his face, breaking his fucking nose.
Then I heard the most terrifying and reassuring scream. It sounded like it came from an animal more than a man, a promise of fiery wrath, of torture, of merciless executions to everyone who was stupid enough to come here.
“AHHHHHHHHHHHH!”
Tears pooled in my eyes. “Wolfe…”
“Francesca!”
It was him. “He’s coming.” I gripped my knife and got to my feet.
“I’m coming for you!”
I was covered in blood, but most of it wasn’t my own. My dress was soaked red from the spray of my bullets. My hands were coated from the slashes and stabs I’d made with my knife. I could feel it all over my cheeks. I started to cry, not out of fear or adrenaline, but fucking relief.
Another man had come into the room to take me, but he stopped when he heard what I said.
“He’s coming,” I said as I stayed against the desk on the floor. “And he’s going to cut your fucking head off.”
The guy decided to save his own ass instead of finishing the mission. He ran back into the hallway and disappeared, probably trying to find a way out before Wolfe got there. A couple seconds later, I heard a man scream, not in ferocity, but in unmistakable death.
“Francesca!”
The sound of his voice so close somehow made me lose mine. I gripped the desk to try to bring myself to my feet, but once the adrenaline had passed, my body suddenly turned weak. My legs were so tired I felt like I’d lifted a car. “I’m—I’m here.”
“Don’t you fucking run from me!”
I stilled against the desk, and then I saw a fucking grizzly bear run past the doors across the hall.
I heard a man plead for his life. “No, no, no—ahhhhhhh!” I heard other noises too, like the crack of bones and a weird gurgle. I didn’t want to imagine what that was. Footsteps sounded again and became louder as they approached the door.
Then I saw him, his demeanor so furious I almost didn’t recognize him, all the veins in his body popping like they were about to snap free of the skin. Even when he looked at me, that rage didn’t diminish, but when he saw me covered in blood, he rushed to me. “Baby.”
My cries turned to sobs. “I—I’m not hurt.”
He immediately kneeled down and pressed his hands all over me, checking for wounds. “You’re covered in blood.”
“It’s—it’s not mine…”
His eyes found mine again, and they stared there, his entire body still like he wasn’t even breathing, just staring at me in awe and disbelief and wonder. Then he looked at the bloody knife on the floor and the pile of men in the office before he looked at me again. “You killed all these guys by yourself?”
I couldn’t bring myself to speak, so I nodded instead.
He stared at me again, long and hard, and he slightly shook his head. Both of his hands cupped my face, and he kissed me, kissed me hard, kissed me like I wasn’t covered in the blood of my enemies.
It was the only thing that calmed me down. The only thing that stopped the tears.
He pulled away and looked at me again, his hands still on my cheeks. “My baby is a tough fucking bitch.”
“I—I was so scared—”
“Tough. Fucking. Bitch.”
“I knew you were coming.”
“You were made for me, Francesca Mancini,” he said with his hands still on my cheeks. “You’re the only woman I want for—”
“Francesca?” My father’s voice came from down the hallway.
Wolfe’s gaze had been locked on mine with affection and awe, but it quickly turned furious at the interruption. He looked like he wanted to curse before he pulled his hands away from my face. He stood up, pulled out his gun, and shot one of the guys on the floor five times in the face before he threw the gun across the room in his rage.
I got to my feet and held on to the desk, afraid of Wolfe, when I was the last person in the world who should be scared of him.
My father rounded the corner, and his eyes locked on mine. “Cristo—”