Novels by Akipearlchi 587

Bella’s heart was a frantic, trapped thing, beating a wild rhythm against her ribs. Two minutes, Andre’s voice had echoed, and the clock was already ticking. She snatched a shawl from the desk, wrapping it tightly around her shoulders, trying to cover the evidence of the heat that still throbbed beneath her skin. The man who had stood by the fireplace moments before was an entirely different organism from the one who was now gone. He was possessive and loud, a predator who didn't care about the chase, only the kill. The man who had just touched her. "Are you incapable of following a simple instruction?" Andre demanded, turning to look at her, his eyes cold and devoid of the startling intensity she had just witnessed. "Fix yourself, wife. We have appearances to keep." He didn't notice the disarray of her dress. He didn't notice the slickness between her thighs. He only saw a slow, stupid woman. Bella forced herself to breathe. She had to get away from him, or she would shatter. H

The library was silent, save for the crackle of the fireplace and the erratic rhythm of Bella's breathing. The man standing before her—her husband, she told herself didn't move. He didn't lunge. He simply watched her with an intensity that made butterflies in her belly. "You're trembling," he observed. His voice was low, devoid of the mockery Andre had used at the altar. It scraped against her nerves in a way that wasn't entirely unpleasant. Bella pressed her back harder against the door, her chin lifting. "I’m cold. This castle is a drafty tomb." He stepped closer. The movement was so smooth it was almost unnatural. "Is it the cold? Or is it the fact that you are locked in a room with a man you despise?" "I don't know you well enough to despise you," Bella countered, her voice shaking slightly. "I only know your reputation. The Butcher of the Alps." He stopped inches from her. He was close enough that she could feel the heat radiating from his chest through his dress shirt.

The scent of copper and expensive scotch filled the air. It was a thick, cloying smell that coated the back of the throat, but neither of the men in the room seemed to notice."Please," the man on his knees gurgled, blood bubbling past his lips. "I didn't... I didn't know."Andre Volkov didn't blink. He just adjusted the diamond cufflink on his left wrist, checking his reflection in the grand mirror of the vestry. He looked impeccable. A tuxedo blacker than a sinner’s soul, hair slicked back, the ink of his tattoos creeping up his neck like ivy strangling a tree."You didn't know?" Andre asked, his voice a deceptively light baritone. He turned, "You tried to plant a bomb under the altar of my wedding, and you say you didn't know?"Thud.Andre’s polished shoe connected with the man’s ribs. The crack was sickeningly loud in the silent room."I’m getting married in twenty minutes," Andre roared, his composure snapping. "This is supposed to be the merger of the century. The union of the