Total pages in book: 141
Estimated words: 128585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 643(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128585 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 643(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 429(@300wpm)
“You knew she was alive.” I stopped in front of him. “All this time, and you fucking knew Pearl was alive. That she was a motherfucking Lawson.” I’d never wanted to kill anyone as much as I wanted to kill this fucker. This two-faced mothercunting rat.
Freddie smirked. He knew he was on borrowed time. But he used his final minutes to stick the dagger further into my back. “My old man set it up. Knew when your mum and Pearl would be alone. He organised for the Lawsons to torch the place, then took her from the cottage and away from you fuckers. And now she’s one of us.” His eyes flared. “And she’ll kill you. She’ll kill all of you when she finds out what you’ve done.” Eric’s gaze burned with fury. “If you’re the dark lord, then she’s hell itself.” Freddie nodded his head. “She’ll come for you, Artie. Your sister, the one you fucking mourned, missed every day, hates you, and will come to kill you. She—”
I grabbed his face and snapped his neck before he could say anything else. I didn’t want to hear his fucking voice anymore. Freddie slumped in Eric’s arms, and Eric dropped him to the ground like last week’s rubbish.
I turned. All my family were looking at me, their eyes fucking wracked with both pain and rage at the news about Pearl.
My sister was alive.
Vinnie was staring at the ground, his head more than fucked. Everyone looked at me for answers.
I had none. I fucking had none!
Rage built from the bottom of my feet to my motherfucking skull. And I roared. I threw my head back and roared. My bellow echoed off the walls, the fucking fight draining out of me. She was alive. Pearl was alive, and she hated us. Despised us. Wanted to fucking see us fall—
Arms wrapped around me from behind.
Cheska.
Turning, I met her watery eyes, yanked her close and held her to my chest. “We’ll get her back,” she said, and then kissed me. She fucking kissed the fuck out of me, and my body calmed back down.
Always the water to my fucking fire.
I held on to my bird, then cupped her bloodied cheeks. “You fucking killed him.” I searched her face for any sign of regret, of shock or guilt. Charlie and my family started taking calls in the background, back to fucking business. But it was all white noise as I looked at my woman, my princess, my fucking queen.
“He deserved to die,” she said coldly, her eyes flashing with darkness. “For what he’s done. For everything he’s done to us all.” My forehead fell against hers, and everything that was displaced inside me fucking clicked together. In that moment, I knew that aura of darkness, the one Vinnie had told me was wrapped around me, had merged with her red. The same. Whatever it was that Vinnie saw around us, we now were the fucking same. No beginning to mine, no end to hers.
“You came for me,” she whispered, and I dropped my hand to the bracelet on her wrist, thanking fuck I’d got her it.
“I told you I would,” I growled, taking her mouth again. Her tongue tasted like fucking heaven. “You’re never leaving me. Never fucking leaving my side. From now the fuck on, you’re an Adley, and whatever we do, you’ll be right by my bastard side.”
Cheska smiled against my mouth and sighed. “I’m an Adley now.”
I growled at my surname on her lips, fucking kissed her harder, forced myself to break away, then said to my family, “Let’s get the fuck home.”
Chapter Eighteen
CHESKA
I stepped out of the shower, breathing in the humid, damp air. I wrapped the towel around me and entered the bedroom. It took me a few seconds to realise Arthur was absent and Eva Adley sat on the armchair. I stopped dead and met her hard gaze.
She was dressed impeccably as always, but as I studied her further, I saw a paleness in her cheeks and redness in her eyes. My heart broke for the Adley matriarch. She had just lost her only remaining son at the murderous hands of a boy she’d raised as a much-loved grandchild. A traitor raised to bring her family down from inside.
“Eva,” I said in greeting and walked toward her. She remained silent, watching me with stony eyes as I stopped a few feet away from where she sat. “I’m sorry,” I said, feeling completely and utterly drained. “About Alfie. About Freddie. I’m so incredibly sorry.”
Eva didn’t react, didn’t flinch. Instead she got to her feet and met me toe to toe. Her eyes ran down the length of me. I braced, waiting for her censure, for her cold dismissal. But when she opened her mouth, she said, “You killed Ollie Lawson.” I couldn’t speak, so I simply nodded.