Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Fuck!” The Butcher said. “Go back to your room.”
Now I was awake. Someone was in the house. I’m guessing someone who wasn’t supposed to be in the house. I felt my heart start to race, and I rushed back into my bedroom. It was then I realized The Butcher was using one hand, because in the other she held a knife. The blade looked curved and sharp.
Reality hit me. Someone was in the house to kill me? To kill The Butcher?
If she killed people for a living, wasn’t this the opposite of what was supposed to happen? The people she killed were already dead. I tried not to freak out.
Even as my heart raced and I felt I was going to die, I somehow held my composure. I don’t know how I did it.
The Butcher nudged me into the bathroom, and I went without complaint. I was terrified. There was nothing I could do. She followed me into the bathroom, but told me to climb into the bathtub, and then pulled the curtain around me. She did so quietly. Part of me knew I shouldn’t look. Every part of me that was sane knew I shouldn’t look, that I didn’t want to know, but I couldn’t stop myself. I looked around the curtain, just as someone entered the room, and The Butcher didn’t give them time. There was no hesitation. She sliced her blade up across the person’s body, drawing back, and sticking the blade into his neck.
It was over in a matter of minutes, yet it felt like I had been watching for hours.
Chapter Five
Victor
I was pissed off.
My walls were impenetrable, yet one of The Grid fuckers had been able to find a weak spot. I currently had my men checking out all the areas they could have gotten through. One of the security cameras was disabled. It was the only way that piece of shit could have gotten in.
If The Butcher hadn’t been in my house, there was a chance my wife would very much be dead, and it angered me. I was irritated that anyone would even dare try to break through my walls. I was also annoyed that the thought of Freya being killed bothered me.
Her father may be Harris Harris, but I wasn’t a total moron. I knew she was nothing like her father. Running fingers through my hair, I moved toward my office window. Ivan sat behind my desk.
We had already killed five assassins from The Grid. I think what was worse, they were not just coming for Freya to kill her, or even to sell her. She was going to be torn apart.
“I believe Freya saw the whole thing,” The Butcher said.
“How exactly did he get into the house?” I asked.
The Butcher looked at me. “Like I said, your alarms didn’t go off. The security cameras were turned off. Now, you trust every person who works here, right?” The Butcher asked.
I did.
“Because unless you had some convenient electrical fault, someone turned them off,” The Butcher said. “And that means you’ve got a rat from the inside.”
“There is a chance of that,” Ivan said.
He hadn’t said a lot.
“Is Freya okay?” Ivan asked.
I had yet to ask that.
“Last time I checked she was in her sewing room. Her bathroom was covered in blood, and some of it leaked into her room. She didn’t scream or anything.” The Butcher shrugged.
“You should go to her,” Ivan said.
I thought he was talking to The Butcher, however, his gaze was on me. “Why me?”
“She’s your wife.”
“I’m not a woman. Tell The Butcher to go see her.”
“She just watched me murder a man. I don’t think I’m the one she is going to want to see.”
I was not about to tell them she wouldn’t want to see me in her sewing space, seeing as I had destroyed the gift she made for me. I was not going to tell them. It was none of their business, and now Freya knew I didn’t want a fucking gift.
Ivan was not budging, and the truth was, I needed to go and see that she was okay for myself. And so, I left my office and made my way toward the stairs.
Freya had every right to hate me. In that moment, I replayed the look on her face as I tossed the damn remnants of the quilt in her face. I had been so angry at her for even trying to make me something. I didn’t want to care about this woman, but it would seem I didn’t have a fucking choice.
Making my way up to her sewing room, I glanced toward her main bedroom. The Butcher would know we didn’t share a room. Not that it came as a shock to anyone. Stepping into her room, I checked to see there was indeed a lot of blood. The Butcher was not exactly known for being clean. She had made a big mess. This annoyed me, but there was nothing I could do because the alternative was to watch Freya die.