Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82524 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 413(@200wpm)___ 330(@250wpm)___ 275(@300wpm)
“You’re not joking.” She leans back against the wall as though dizzy.
“If you’re about to pass out, please tell me. I’ll get you into bed.”
“Don’t touch me.” She holds a hand out as if warding me off. “Just, please, stay away.”
“June, there’s no need to behave like I’m a monster. I didn’t touch anything.” Though I did take a pair of her panties as a souvenir. I decide not to mention that.
“Stop. Just… stop talking.” She rubs her face with both hands. “God, this is so fucked up.”
“Look at it from my perspective. People want to hurt you. They want to use you and Hattie against me. I did what I thought would both protect you and my organization by making you legitimate. I went out of my way to make you comfortable—“
“Should I thank you?!”
“That would be nice.”
“Go to hell.”
I step into the closet. “I’ve been tolerating your outbursts because you’re in shock and struggling to come to terms with your new life. But my patience only goes so far.”
Her cheeks pale. I can imagine what she’s thinking.
But that girl doesn’t know me yet.
“I want my own things.” She raises her chin in defiance and a heat surges into my chest.
God, this girl is gorgeous.
There’s a reason I’ve been so obsessed with her all these years.
I walk closer. “That isn’t happening.”
“Please, Rafe—“
“It’s not a security issue, mind you. If I wanted to bring your things here, it would be simple.”
“Then why?”
I stop in front of her. I stoop down and touch her cheek. “Control.”
“What?”
“I want to control what you wear, June. I want to dress you like a doll. I want to look at you in beautiful things. Didn’t I buy you pretty outfits?”
“Oh my god, Rafe. You’re insane.”
“You’re the wife of a powerful man now. Don’t you understand? You can’t be seen in Old Navy sweats with pasta stains on the ass. How’d you even sit in sauce, anyway?”
“Hattie poured it on my chair. This is so sick.”
I stroke her cheek with my thumb. She purrs, nuzzling toward my hand, and catches herself.
“If there are certain items you can’t live without, tell me and I’ll see what I can do. But from now on, you are June Corvino. You wear Prada, Gucci, Yves St. Laurent. Your underwear is lace and silk. Your blouses cost more than most cars. You will ooze beauty and power. My men will fear you the way they fear me. Do you understand?”
“That’s not me though.” She meets my gaze. There’s a desperation in her eyes.
“I’ll show you how.”
“Please, I don’t want this.”
“You have to realize that doesn’t matter.” I lean in. She groans as my mouth closes toward hers, but I pull to the side at the last moment, lips brushing her cheek. She shivers in my hands. “You’re mine now, love, and I will burn this entire forest to the ground before I let anyone disrespect or hurt you.”
I release her. It takes a lot of effort. I want to smash my lips to hers, fist her hair, kiss her until she’s grinding against me, and only then fuck her raw and deep, make her scream and shake, make her tremble and beg. I want to ruin her, break her, fuck her and fill her.
I want to own her.
But it’s a sickness and I have to get myself under control.
“Marnie,” she says, blurting the name out. Her cheeks are flushed pink. “Is she still alive?”
I nod slowly. “She’s lucky. The doctors say she’ll recover.”
June lets out a sharp sob, leaning forward. I step into her reflexively, offering her support. She accepts it without seeming to realize what she’s doing. The relief is physical, her shoulders shaking, and I rub her back.
“I’ve been… so worried…” She looks at me, eyes damp and tears on her cheeks. “How bad?”
“She’ll have trouble walking.”
“Can I see her?”
“Not yet.”
“She’s in danger though. Someone tried to kill her.”
I’d considered that already, which is why I have two men watching over her at all times. “We’ll handle Marnie after she has had more time to heal. For now, she’s where she has to be.”
June nods, wiping her face. “I still don’t understand why they would do that to her.”
Because of me. That’s why.
Anyone important to me burns.
I’ve learned that lesson the hard way too many times over the years.
I leave her in the closet. I’m a fucking mess. I storm through the halls and pause outside our daughter’s bedroom door, peering in at Hattie sitting in bed watching a TV I set up on her bureau, humming to herself. A plush pony is in her lap and she’s transfixed by the cartoon.
Something in me softens at the sight of my daughter, so calm and happy.
That’s why I’m doing all this.
I force myself away before Hattie notices me.
I’m not ready to talk to her, not yet, and there’s so much work to do.