A Sense of Duty (Volkov Bratva #2) Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Volkov Bratva Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
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“This is so good,” I said, opening my eyes to find Andrei staring at me. “Here, take a bite. Trust me, it won’t hurt you. It’s just real good pizza.”

He looked highly doubtful but I waited and he took a bite. I saw the small hint of surprise as he licked his lips. My husband liked my vegan pizza, who would have thought it?

Just as I was about to offer him another slice of pizza, the sound of gunfire rang out, bullets flew through the room, and I screamed. Andrei grabs me, pushing me to the floor, his body covering mine. His hands go to my ears, but I press my hands to my own, hoping he will protect himself. I don’t know what’s happening. It’s frightening. Deafening.

****

Andrei

An attack was imminent. I shouldn’t have let my guard down.

My only concern was getting Adelaide to safety. The attack took less than five minutes. I got the manager to account for everyone in the restaurant. There were no casualties, just a couple of wounds.

Adelaide and I were the main targets. The focus was on us, which told me someone within the restaurant had been asked to give our location. I got Adelaide to her feet and walked her out of the back of the restaurant where Leo and Terrance were already waiting.

Before I put Adelaide in the car, I force her to look at me.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m fine. I’m fine. What about you?” Her hands go to my arms, holding me.

“I’m fine. There’s nothing wrong.”

I quickly glance over her body and see no cuts, no bruises, nothing. She was fine. I got her to safety. Leo and Terrance had been waiting around the back, per my instructions, in case we need to leave privately, but of course, doing this meant they weren’t there to see who attacked.

“Take her home,” I said, looking at Leo.

“No, no, no, I’m not leaving you,” Adelaide said.

“Baby, you cannot be here for this, okay?”

“But, what about the cops?”

“I’ll deal with them.”

“Andrei?”

I cup her face and pull her into my arms. She’s scared. I get that. Shaking. I don’t care that my men are seeing me like this. If it had been anyone else, I’d have told them to get their fucking shit together, but everyone else, are not my wife.

“I’ve got to go and see what the fuck happened. They could come back.”

She shook her head. “Then come with me.”

“I’ve got to do this.”

Tears filled her eyes. “Please.”

I slam my lips down on hers, kissing her. “I’ll be fine. This will be easier for me if you go home. Please.”

I hate seeing her cry, and I wipe the tears away from her face, not wanting to be the cause, but knowing I am. Whoever attacked me today was going to pay severely. I was having a good, quiet day with my wife and they had come and fucked with it.

Adelaide holds onto my hand and I have no choice but to help her into the car. My heart, for the first time, is pounding. Is this what I thought it was? Did Adelaide care about me? Was she worried I might die?

I wasn’t sure what it was, but I kissed her and then looked to Leo. “Nothing happens to her, understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

I step away from the car and watch it drive away. Terrance is by my side. “This was an inside job,” I said.

“Sir?”

“I was the only target. Whoever did this knew I ate at this restaurant.” I didn’t believe Adelaide was the target. This time, I was.

I was annoyed that she had to experience that. Someone was going to pay for instilling fear into my wife.

Entering the restaurant, I take a few steps in and the manager Clifford is there. “Sir, follow me,” he said.

The cops would be arriving soon. Hopefully it would be someone on my payroll, and if not, they would soon arrive to deal with this mess. Heading into the back of the restaurant, Clifford takes me to the security rooms, where we have multiple cameras set up. I’m a stickler for security.

Watching the screens, Clifford leans forward and brings up the moment I enter the restaurant. Adelaide is with me and I’m not paying attention to anyone but my wife. This is a first for me. I never allow pleasure to come before business. The maître d’ on the front desk changes, his stance becomes tense. He takes us to our table and leaves us alone.

I follow his movements, tracking him. The moment he’s back at the desk and out of earshot, he pulls out a cell phone and looks back, talking to someone. After a few seconds, he ends the call. Time passes, and then, the moment the gunshots hit, he takes off, running out of the restaurant.

“I want his name and details now,” I said.


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