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Pain lances up my leg, choking me as a sob wrenches from my throat.
“I think maybe your fucking brother is wasting my time, because my prize is no longerpure,” Luca hisses maliciously as he yanks off his suit jacket and storms toward the bed. “I think maybe tonight, I need to see if my blushing bride-to-be has had any other manfuckwhat is mine and mine alone to take.”
“I haven’t!” I sob. I hate that I’m even telling him something so personal. But I know what he wants to hear. And there’s a tiny part of me that hopes if maybe I can convince him, he’ll leave me alone.
“Please!” I sob. “Please! I haven’t! I swear—”
“You’d better pray there’s blood on my cock when I’m done, or it’ll come from the hole I put through your head.”
I go to scream again, but the air is forced from my lungs as Luca crawls over to me and settles his weight on top of me. He paws at my breasts, his horrible breath all over me as I kick and scream and try to scratch at his face. He slaps me again, and suddenly, my knee is bent under his middle.
Fuck. You. Asshole.
I kick out hard with every last bit of strength I have. My leg flexes, and suddenly, even with his weight, Luca is getting shoved backward off me. He slips off the foot of the bed, tumbles backward over his shoes and his jacket, and goes crashing into the mirror on the bedroom wall.
I don’t wait. I lurch from the bed and bolt for the door. But he’s back on me in a second, crashing into me and taking us both to the ground with me beneath him.
“YOU LITTLE BITCH!”
It’s dark, and I’m still dazed from the slap, so I don’t realize what the hot, sticky, coppery-smelling liquid that’s gushing all over my neck and my chest is until my eyes adjust.
Oh my fucking God.
It’s blood.
I scream, over and over andover, kicking and thrashing as he looms above me with bulging eyes and his tongue lolling out of his mouth. Shards of glass from the mirror stick out of the side of his face and neck like something out of a horror movie. Blood pumps in rhythmic gushes from the jagged hole in his neck, spilling all over me as he roars and burbles and wraps his hands around my throat.
And starts to squeeze.
And squeeze.
And fucking squeeze. I flail away, slapping at his horribly maimed face and trying to kick up with my knees. But my vision starts to darken and blur. My strength begins to sap out of me.
I can’t breathe.
I can’t fucking breathe.
Luca is turning paler and paler as the blood drains out of him. But I’m fading faster.
He’s going to take me out with him.
Black spots dance around the edges of my eyes.
And then suddenly, the door to the room splinters off its hinges. Something huge, broad-shouldered, and dark with a savage look on its face surges in the room.
Castle.
In a split second, Luca is yanked off me. I drag a ragged gasp of air through my bruised windpipe as Castle lifts Luca up by the scruff of the neck, grabs his chin from behind, and yanks back,hard.
I flinch, sobbing at the horrible crunching, cracking sound as Luca’s neck snaps.
He falls to the ground in a heap.
My pulse is racing a million miles an hour. I feel numb, cold. But then, strong, warm, powerful arms surround me. I’m being lifted and cradled against a rock-hard chest and carried out through the shattered bedroom door.
In the main room of the suite, Luca’s two goons lie dead on the floor with their necks twisted at horribly unnatural angles. Castle deftly steps over them and out the door.
I can’t even speak. All I can do is cling to him. And I start to cry into his chest as he holds me against his strength and carries me away.
