Coping with the traumatic experiences Ava endured with the Kakos is more challenging than she ever imagined it to be. She finds herself struggling to remember the details of her time kept away with Damien Kakos and when the memories assault her mind, she is plagued with crippling fear. There is something in the back of Ava’s thoughts screaming at her, telling her that the fight with the devil’s brood has not yet ended.
Newly married, Ava and Ari deal with issues involving trust, honesty and faith in one another and as they plot their course for a new life together, they discover that their individual wants and needs don’t exactly match. Ari’s promises to Ava begin to break. Some of the Alexander’s family secrets are revealed and Ava realizes that she needs to keep her friends close, and her enemies even closer.
A Broken Fate, the second novel in The Beautiful Fate Series, dives further into Ava and Ari’s nail-bitter of a story and adds even more suspense, mystery, romance and thrills. This series is impossible for any reader to resist.
The moon was taunting me; staring at me from beyond the little rectangular window. The moon, unlike me, was free. Free to come and go as it chooses. I was stuck. My mouth was soggy with old duct tape. My arms were pinned behind my back, my wrists held tightly together with handcuffs. I pulled at the cuffs but they did not budge, the metal only dug further in to my tender, broken flesh. I was wet with urine. I could smell the ammonia – it made my stomach heave with nausea. Hit with a bout of violent heaves, my mouth filled with stomach acid, it tasted bitter and I could feel the texture of something chunky on my tongue. Due to the tape that kept my mouth from opening, I was forced to swallow my vomit back down. My teeth felt gritty. Leaning back against the water heater, I pillowed my head against a pipe. I listened to the heavy footsteps of No. 6 on the floorboards above me. He was whistling, carrying on a tune while he made his dinner. The house smelt of tuna. The acid and chunks flew up my esophagus again, my cheeks filled and I forced my vomit back down as quickly as I could. No 6’s fork clattered against his plate. I listened to him stand up, his chair rubbed loudly against the hardwood floors. I heard the clash of his dish as it hit the kitchen sink. Moments later, the basement door opened with a creak. Panic rose. It was time. What was he going to do to me? What was next? I squirmed and pulled at the cuffs. I started to breathe heavy, my heart pounded. Oh, God. Oh, God. He reached the bottom of the steps. I could see the wicked gleam in his eyes. He put his mouth up to mine. I could smell the tuna on his breath. Once again, the bile rose and filled my cheeks. Once again, I swallowed my vomit back down.
I stood there alone for what felt like ages. I hate what I had done to my marriage. I hate who I’d become. I had isolated myself from everyone I know, from everyone who has come to love me and accept me. Misha was right. I was ungrateful, spoiled and selfish. I was going to die, this I knew. No. 7 would come for me and I would accept him. I would accept my death. My family would be the ones who would suffer, they would be the ones who would end up hurt and would cry for me. Just like they had every other time I faced death, every other time I turned away from them, lied to them and betrayed their trust.
Ari- “You are beautiful, Ava, even in defeat.”
Ava-- “I was a big, fat liar.”