Beautiful Torment (Empire of Kings #1) Read Online A. Zavarelli

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Erotic, Mafia, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Empire of Kings Series by A. Zavarelli
Advertisement

Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 144979 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
<<<<6676848586878896106>152
Advertisement


Carlo gurgles a response, blood exploding from his lips. His words are no longer decipherable.

“Tell me.” Angelo fists Carlo’s shirt by the collar and yanks him up into a sitting position, but it’s no use. Carlo sputters out his last breath, then falls limp.

For a moment, I stand there in shock, watching as Angelo closes his eyes and exhales a sharp breath. Every muscle in his body draws tight as he shoves Carlo’s body back to the floor and turns his gaze on me.

My flight response kicks in, and I run.

I burst out of the house and stumble over the cobblestones as his footsteps echo behind me. I can’t make it over the gate, and I really have nowhere to go, but giving up isn’t an option. I round the side of the house and skirt around the pool, spotting a gap in the hedges I can squeeze through. But as I’m closing in on it, an unyielding arm captures me from behind and brings me to a dead halt.

“Abella.” Angelo cocks his revolver and shoves it beneath my chin.

A cocktail of fear and adrenaline surges through my veins as I consider the possibility he might actually do it. One humiliation was tempting fate. Two, I’m not sure I can survive.

Carlo Pagnotto said what the whole room was already thinking, and he made sure to sign my death warrant, too.

“Tell me.” Angelo breathes hard, his rage a palpable heat behind me.

“I don’t know,” I blurt.

What’s one more lie? I’ve already told plenty of them. There’s no way I’m going to confess everything when he’s this angry. My fragile heart would fare better dead than fractured and tossed into the discard pile.

Just like my mother.

The weight of his finger bears down on the trigger. I squeeze my eyes shut. A sharp, metallic snap splinters the silence, and my heart explodes in my chest.

It was a dry fire. He’s playing Russian roulette.

“Angelo, please.”

“Spare me your begging,” he grits out. “All I want from you is the fucking truth.”

“I don’t know⁠—”

Another sharp click. Another dry fire.

“Angelo.” Panic edges my voice as I try to pull away, but his grip is too tight.

Click.

“Angelo!”

“Are you willing to take your secrets to the grave, cara?”

He wheels me around, pressing me against the back of a sun lounge. With a solid shove, I fall forward onto my elbows and catch myself. Angelo yanks my dress up around my waist, the cool air making me shiver.

He presses the gun to the back of my head and slides his palm over the curve of my ass, then down between my thighs.

A faint whimper escapes me as he pulls my thong aside and drags his fingers through my arousal. There’s no logical explanation for how soaked I am. But the low groan that pierces the silence behind me suggests Angelo approves.

Still, he doesn’t show me any mercy as he pulls the trigger again. That’s four. How many times do I have left before he really fires? One? Two?

“Angelo, please,” I cry out.

I hear the sound of his zipper, followed by the rustle of his clothing. When he rubs the head of his cock against me, I arch back into him, desperate for a single shred of his warmth.

“Tell me I can trust you,” he rasps.

“You can.” Another lie.

Fat tears fall down my cheeks as he pulls the trigger again. Deep down, I know this is my last chance. But I can’t bring myself to tell him.

“Angelo—”

He grabs me by the hip and pushes deep inside me without an ounce of softness.

“Oh, God!” I shriek.

“Not God.” He pulls back and slams into me again. “Il Diavolo. Remember?”

I don’t get a chance to answer. He fucks me hard and fast, the weight of our bodies pushing the sun lounge forward with every thrust. It’s all I can do to breathe as he shows me that, up until now, I’ve only seen his tender side.

This is the merciless devil they whisper about.

“Tell me,” he demands.

Sounds eject from my mouth, but I can’t form words. I can’t even think.

The gun digs into the back of my skull, and I brace myself for the inevitable. All the agony, the fear, the sheer unfairness of it all—it boils over and explodes as I come around his cock with a sob. Tremors roll down my spine, pulsing through my body as I clench around him. When he buries himself as deep as I can take him, I live in that moment from one breath to the next. He empties his cock inside me without so much as a groan, and I feel how hollow it is for him.

It was just a release, and nothing more.

He taps the gun against my skull. “Tell me I can fucking trust you.”

“You can,” I whisper, wishing more than anything it were true.



<<<<6676848586878896106>152

Advertisement