Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 81292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81292 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 406(@200wpm)___ 325(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Even as a girl, she’d loved the snow. Hearing it crunch beneath her feet, and as she walked, seeing it glisten on the ground.
Her mother liked the snow whenever Antonio wasn’t around. There were a lot of things her mother enjoyed doing when he wasn’t near. She missed her mother dearly right now. No amount of holding herself was going to rid her memories or her wishing for her mother.
Milah spun around as she heard the door being thrust open. This morning, Glory had told her to wait in her bedroom. The house was in a little bit of chaos, but De Luca wanted her to remain here.
Her first instinct had been to make a run for it. This might be her only opportunity to get free, but as she’d gone to the door, intent on opening it, and finally embracing the chance of freedom, she had stopped herself. What if … this was a trap? What if Damon expected her to make a run for it, and as punishment, Glory suffered?
She didn’t know Glory all that well, and she doubted they would ever be besties. It didn’t for a second mean she wanted the young woman to suffer.
Rather than push open the door, she’d stepped back, sat on her bed, and waited. There would be a time and place for her to make a run for it. Damon would lose his guard, or something. She had to keep on hoping for some kind of miracle.
Anything.
What she wouldn’t do was use someone else, an innocent, as a means to make her escape.
Damon stood before her now, his gaze focused on her. Did he expect her to run? Had she passed his stupid test? What was he thinking?
Rather than ask any questions, she dropped her hands by her sides and greeted him. “Hello,” she said.
He smiled. “Are you liking the snow?”
She glanced behind her at the view. There was no point in denying the appeal. “It looks beautiful.”
“That it does.” He nodded his head in agreement. “Very beautiful. How would you like to take a walk with me?”
It was on the tip of her tongue to refuse, but then she stopped herself. Why would she refuse him?
“I’d like that.”
His brows went up, and she took a step toward him. “I don’t have a jacket.”
He snapped his fingers, and Glory entered the room.
She smiled at the young woman, taking the jacket from her.
This wasn’t what she expected, and when Damon offered her his arm, she was tempted to refuse.
Sliding her hand around his arm, they walked out together, making their way downstairs. The corridors were large enough to accommodate two people side by side.
She couldn’t resist taking quick glances. Every now and then, she looked at him, curious as to what was going on in his mind.
The rumors that circulated about the De Lucas always made the women fearful. They knew of Damon’s grandfather who had no problem with stealing women, raping them, bringing them to the point of death, and at times, even killing them.
She had expected Damon to be the same.
Only, he was different. He hadn’t forced himself on her.
If anything, other than the dungeon, he’d been a perfect host.
“You keep looking at me like that, I’m going to wonder if I’ve got something on my face,” he said.
Then he’d say things like that, almost teasing. There was a smile on his lips, and she didn’t know what to say or think.
“You have nothing on your face and you know it.”
“Then you’re admiring my face?”
She rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t do anything of the sort.”
“You know a lot of women would love to be in your position.”
“Locked away. No freedom. Fearing for my life. Surrounded by people who despise me. I see the appeal.”
He chuckled. “Now that you put it that way.”
“I have no desire to be here, Damon. You know that. You don’t want me here.”
“Oh, but I do,” he said. “This is where you’re going to stay.”
“Is this part of your punishment?” she asked, coming to a stop before they even got to the garden. “To lure me into a false sense of security. Will you kill me?”
He patted her hand and leaned in close. “I have no interest in killing you. You haven’t betrayed me.”
“And you only kill people who betray you?” she asked.
“No, but that is usually the case within this house.”
She wanted to argue with him. “I’m a Russo. My very name tells you that you should hate me.”
“I don’t hate you.”
“Why not?”
“I have no reason to.”
That was a lie. Milah refused to be pulled into tricks.
The doors to the garden opened, and she was tempted to go back to her room. To run and hide, but instead, she felt the chill against her cheeks.
It felt so good compared to the chill around the house. This was crisp and fresh, and a little exciting.