I Spent Six Years Loving a Monster to Put Him on Death Row Chapter 2

Silas Vane had a scar running from his brow to his cheekbone.

Right now, that old scar was fresh again, oozing crimson. It added a savage edge to his usually sophisticated, handsome face.

I pressed a piece of gauze to his wound. He caught my wrist.

"Ria, have I spoiled you too much over the years?"

His fingers traced the inside of my wrist, a gentle touch masking a lethal threat.

I lowered my eyes. "Spoiled? hardly."

He chuckled, his thumb pressing lazily against my pulse point. "Is that so? Calling all these men to my house... strangers might think I’m running a gang."

He was running a gang.

He had climbed from the gutter to the throne over a mountain of corpses. Now, he was "washing his hands," posing as a young entrepreneur. The newspapers called him a visionary.

It made me sick.

"Who is the girl?" I pulled my hand away, changing the subject.

He relaxed his brow but looked away. "None of your business."

He took the gauze from me, leaned in, and kissed the corner of my lips.

"You have the energy to worry about my women..."

"But no energy to ask how I got hurt?"

He bit my neck, a sharp, punishing nip.

"I raised you for nothing."