Page 93 of Risking the King


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Real tears flowed down his face.

And he begged.

He begged Carlo to spare his life.

I laughed at him.

Right in his face.

Because Carlo was not going to let him leave here alive.

I knew that.

Carlo loved me.

And he’d do everything in his power to protect me—and our children—from evil monsters like Sergio.

I wasn’t sure how or why—but Sergio finally gave in.

And he laid his head down on the log.

With both hands, Carlo lifted the ax above his head. I swear he seemed twice his usual size. Almost in slow motion, he brought the ax down.

Right on Sergio’s neck.

Blood splattered everywhere.

In my eyes.

On my dress.

On my legs.

Carlo was covered with Sergio’s blood.

And just like I promised, I watched Sergio’s head roll onto the ground. He stared up at us with wide, frightened eyes.

And I laughed.

His reign of terror was finally over.

My king saw to that.

I looked over at my blood-soaked lumberjack. And I smiled. “Thank you.”

Carlo tossed the ax away and pulled me into his arms. “Anything for you.”

Then—his mouth crashed down onto mine. I moaned as the coppery taste of Sergio’s blood infiltrated my mouth along with Carlo’s tongue.

The taste of freedom.

It was such a heady feeling—knowing that I was free from that monster.

Sergio could never touch me again.

Before I knew it, I was ripping Carlo’s shirt off him. Touching his hard, muscular chest. Next, I worked on the buckle of his jeans.

His blood covered jeans.

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