Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 108517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108517 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 543(@200wpm)___ 434(@250wpm)___ 362(@300wpm)
Christina, on the other hand, looked so pleased with herself, she was almost triumphant. She focused on Alessandro, slowly crossed her arms, and smirked at us as we approached. Alessandro marched to the patio so fast, I had to almost run to keep up. He stopped in front of his mother. The countess rose.
“Where are my sisters?” Alessandro asked. His voice chilled me to the proverbial bone.
His mother flinched.
“Is that any way to speak to your mother?” Christina asked.
“Be quiet.” He dropped each word like a brick on her head.
Countess Sagredo flinched again.
Alessandro pivoted to her. “The girls?”
“Back at the villa,” she said. There was a slight tremble to her voice.
“You left that old viper in charge of their safety, knowing he doesn’t give a damn about them because he can’t sell them yet.”
The goon on the left, a huge broad-shouldered brick of a man, cleared his throat and said in Italian, “Your grandfather says hello.”
Oh. So those were not Christina’s goons. They were the grandfather’s goons.
“Remember, Lilian,” Christina said, “we talked about this. This is what’s best for him. Stay strong.”
She had no idea what kind of volcano was about to erupt.
Alessandro stiffened for a fraction of a second and slowly turned toward Christina. His voice was permafrost. “I told you to be quiet. Did you not understand me? Don’t speak again.”
She glared at him. “You don’t have the authority to order me around. I didn’t come here to entertain your infantile notions. Our Houses have a business arrangement, one a grown man would honor without being cajoled like a child. Your refusal to accept facts forced me to bring your mother here. The least you could do is treat us both with courtesy.”
“It’s good that you remember we are adults,” Alessandro said. “Last time I checked, no one except me has the right to negotiate on my behalf. I’m not anyone’s property. I’m not for sale. Whatever bargains you made with my grandfather have nothing to do with me.”
“The payment has been made,” Christina said.
“That’s your problem.” He turned away from her.
“Don’t turn your back on me.” Christina’s voice rang out. “You will regret it. You are not the only Prime here. If you need help remembering your manners, I will gladly remind you.”
And she’d graduated to direct threats. I pulled out my phone and texted Mom.
Please don’t shoot her.
The Artisan smiled.
“She is rude, arrogant, and naïve,” I said to him. “But there are worse things.” Come back from the killing zone. We have bigger enemies to take care of.
Christina turned to me, clearly trying to think of a good comeback.
Alessandro tilted his head. “Make me regret it, Prime Almeida. Impress me.”
Magic snapped around Christina like an invisible whip being cracked. She struck at him, a golden blade in her hand. He sidestepped, rammed his elbow into her face, knocked her leg from under her, and wrenched the blade out of her fingers as she fell.
Lilian gasped.
Christina scrambled to her feet, her nose bleeding.
Alessandro tossed the sword over his shoulder like it was trash. “Again.”
She summoned another sword and lunged. He leaned out of the way, checked her extended right arm with his left forearm, grabbed her wrist, locked his other hand on her other wrist, crossed her arms, and twisted. She hit the floor like a sack of potatoes.
What the hell kind of move was that? I would have to make him show me later.
“Again,” Alessandro snapped. “With feeling.”
She leaped to her feet and spun like a ballerina. I felt her magic fire through her sword. It shot out in a crescent in front of her like a huge blade of golden light and missed. Alessandro had moved out of the way, twisted around Christina, and snapped a kick to her left thigh. She cried out and went down on one knee.
“Again!”
She rose, her face skewed by anger, and locked her teeth, her eyes blazing with rage.
He was being remarkably careful with her. All of it hurt, but none of it resulted in a permanent injury.
Christina flicked her wrist. Two golden blades appeared in her hands. She charged, slicing. He leaned back. Her golden swords carved the air half an inch from his face.
Alessandro snapped a kick to her other thigh. Chassé Italien, a powerful forward stomp, perfectly timed. Chamber the knee to the outside and drive the heel into the opponent’s leg like a piston. Christina went down again.
I’d seen him cripple a man with that kick. If you delivered enough force in just the right place, you’d cause permanent damage to the kneecap.
Christina scrambled to her feet and screamed. It wasn’t pain, it was outrage. He’d humiliated her, and he had done it unarmed.
At least she was still walking.
“Not good enough,” Alessandro told her. “Whoever led you to believe you are ready to fight a real opponent has done you an enormous disservice.”