Aella Diamantini's entire life changes when her father suddenly dies of cancer and she's forced to move from Los Angeles to a Victorian small city of billionaire in England, with her baby twin siblings, to live with her mother who abandoned her when...
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"Snap out of it, Tristan," I yelled at the crazy bastard. "Before I really do it!"
And he dared to glare at me from head to toe and say, "You can't carry me, Cinderella, even less can you throw me into the river without me letting you do it, which ain't ever going to happen. So, that's a stupid threat is just what it is, stupid."
"I'm stronger than I look, Tristan," I hissed. "I may not be able to go fist to fist with you, but I can carry you if I want."
"Yeah? Then why don't you carry him?" He pointed to Christian's corpse, a mocking grin on his damned lips and I clenched my jaw. "If you're so strong."
"It's quite disgusting of you to ask me to carry the corpse of bastard who just tried to rape me, and nearly got his way with it," my voice was a low whisper, but he heard it just right. "It's horrible, even for you. Which says a fucking lot to me. But if you insist, I'll carry him, because I can, however, I'll throw him directly into the fucking rivers so the piranhas can get him. After all, it's you who wants him to be crushed in the wood crusher, so, weight what's more important. Testing me or shutting the fuck up and helping me get rid of his damn body."
He glared back at me, anger clearly taking over, but I don't give a shit if he's angry, because I am too. Fuck, he doesn't get to be an asshole now, not right fucking now. I'm nearly falling apart here, because of what happened to me, and he's being a jerk about it, fucking piece of shit.
"You're the last person I thought I would ever be hiding a dead body for and with," Tristan mocked, then flexed his insanely sculpted broad muscles, his long sculpted arms moving to reap the rest of Christian's clothes, even if there wasn't much left him, and to take off his earrings, necklace, wrist watch, and rings. "Move your ass, Cinderella, go and turn the blood wood crusher on, we have to do it fast, while he's freshly dead, or the piranhas won't want him rotten."
"Motherfucking bastard," I cursed him under my breath, and forced myself to go into the cabin, then I turned the damn thing on, my body shaking and struggling to stand still, but I forced it because the last person who should see me breaking is Tristan goddamn De Vere Beauclerk. "Come on," I groaned standing in front of the crusher that were dangerously rotating in a very lethal way, which I guess it's the damn purpose.
Tristan towered over me as he came in with the corpse like Christian weighed nothing, and I clenched my jaw not to puke with how crushed his head was, all my doing. But I made myself watch, I made myself stand in front of the crusher and see it happening because this is a consequence of something I did, and I never run from it. Even if what I did was killing somebody, he deserved it, I don't feel guilty, I just feel... horrible for taking a life over-fucking-all, because that shouldn't be in my power, my plan was just to knock him out, but I lost control.
He stood at my side, close and in front of crushed, Christian at his arms, "When you kill someone, Cinderella, no matter the bloody damn reason, be it anger fit or self defense, you have to make sure to get rid of the body by whatever means you can, even if it sounds inhumane, you have to do it. You have to do it in a way that nothing will be left behind to trace back to you, because that can cost your entire life, and we don't want that on us. Which is why," I felt his ice blue eyes on me and looked up to find his gaze burning in mine, "we have a industrial wood crusher deep within our woods and a deep lake filled with red-bellied piranhas!"
