AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The one who warned me.
“I…he…”
She steps forward, and I step aside. I’m not sure what’s about to happen, but I pray they didn’t send her for me. My head lowers, and that’s when a shiny metal key glitters against the dark.
I blink and miss the whole part when she unlocks the door and steps aside.
“Go.”
I don’t need to be told twice…
47
GIDEON
I navigatethrough the large foyer and up the stairs leading to Sasha’s room.
The manor is shockingly quiet, the calm before the storm.My men know heads will roll over the breach in information.
When I received the call from Tony that Sasha overheard Sean talking about her brother’s death, I headed back. The problem is, hours later, she skipped dinner, and no one has spoken to her since she stormed off and headed to her old room.
Sasha was never supposed to know that I fired the shot that killed Roman, and when I fucking find Sean, I will gut him.
No one hurts Sasha.
The irony isn’t lost on me that my actions have brought her the most pain, but she’s mine.
Mine to hurt.
Mine to love.
Mine.
Adrenaline surges through me as I stride down the hall and stand outside her door.
Not bothering with formalities, I swing the door open, ready to deal with the aftermath of Sasha’s eavesdropping.
“Firefly—” I stride into the room, my words falling away as I take in the destruction.
Not only is Sasha not here, but it looks like a tornado has torn through the place.
My heart pumps wildly in my chest, red-hot anger filling my veins.
It’s like a storm building inside me, preparing to break.I feel it coursing through my veins like wildfire, making my heart race and my head spin. I want to scream and lash out at anyone who gets in my way.
The room is in complete disarray.
Clothes are thrown all over the place, but that’s not what has my ears ringing. What sets me on edge is the cello, or what used to be her cello.
Now it’s broken, smashed to pieces, the wood splintered and the strings frayed.The one thing in this world that she loved, and because of my actions, it’s destroyed.
“Fuck!”
I pick up the cello, its neck cracked like a brittle twig. It slips from my grasp, crashing to the floor.
It’s heartbreaking to see such beauty destroyed, not because of the craftsmanship used to make it but because of what it implies. This piece of wood is an extension of Sasha, and she’s broken.
I broke her.
