Total pages in book: 39
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 35044 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 175(@200wpm)___ 140(@250wpm)___ 117(@300wpm)
I hate that she overheard that bullshit. I didn’t mean a fucking word of it, but I wasn’t ready to explain to the boys what the fuck is going on. It was the easy option and I fucking took it. I know the past week with her hasn’t exactly gone down the way a usual relationship would, but I fucking loved it. It’s been the best week, despite the few hurdles we had to climb over at the beginning.
I fucked it all up, and now she’s out there, running around with a bunch of Wolves, but being Mikhail Russo’s long-lost daughter, at least she’ll be safe with them. I hope. Christian would lay down his life before letting harm come her way, but she’s been gone a long time, and running out of my clubhouse, she could have easily been mistaken for one of our girls.
If anything fucking happens to her, I won’t stop until I’ve wiped those fucking Wolves out of existence.
More gunfire sounds through the clubhouse and all my boys fall in line, exactly how they’ve trained, ready to defend their leader, their brotherhood, and their home. My snipers sit up on the roof, ready to defend us, and as more gunfire sounds, I realize that they’re trying to break through our locks.
Bullets shoot through my roller doors and everyone ducks, knowing just how lethal a blind bullet can be, but it’s only another second before the roller door shoots up and over a hundred Wolves are bearing down on my men.
We match them equally with numbers, if not more, making me thankful that we had decided to have a meeting tonight. Otherwise, only a handful of men would have been here waiting and would have been slaughtered like cattle.
My Widows charge, meeting them face to face.
Gunshots sound through my clubhouse, and with each one, my anger only burns stronger. No one comes in here and disrespects my home like this. They will not get away with this. I will slaughter every single one of them … I just have to know that Roni is safe first.
I push forward into the crowd of Wolves, knowing that each of them sees me with a target on my back, but I won’t be stopping. I will not go down until I know where she is. I hold my gun tight in one hand while my knife rests comfortably in my other, just as my father always taught me.
Most of the gun power is starting to ease as everyone flies through their ammo, having to use their fists, which honestly, I prefer. My guys are good, but they’re nothing against a gun. With a fistfight, though, my guys will dominate. Every. Fucking. Time.
I try to ignore the fallen bodies around me, some mine, some Wolves. I can concentrate on that shit afterward. For now, I have a job to do.
Dumb fuckers come at me left, right, and center, every single one of them wanting a piece of the guy who burned down their home seven years ago. I spot my boys Kairo, Elijah, and Sebastian and see that each of them is still doing fine, which sends relief shooting through me with a new energy to keep going. My boys are my brothers, and without them, I have nothing.
The men coming for me drop like flies. They’re no match for me. The only one who could even come close to giving me a fair fight is Christian, and so far, the fucker is nowhere to be seen, but I know he’s here. There’s no way he would miss all the fun.
I hear a loud squeal that speaks right to my soul. It’s the same squeal I heard when I forced myself into her apartment, the same one that comes tearing through the small bunker every time I throw her down on my bed, the same one I would die for.
I start searching frantically, my distraction allowing the Wolves to land more than their fair share of punches. A blade comes flying past my face and slicing through the side of my cheek. I have to put Roni to the back of my mind, even if only for a second.
I grab the bastard with the knife and snap his wrist in one quick blow before bending his fucking arm back and stabbing the dickhead right in the gut, watching as he drops to the ground.
I send a quick, unexpected blow to the fucker next in line, instantly knocking him out before scanning the room in a panic. Where is she? Come on, Roni, speak to me. Tell me where the fuck you are.
As if on cue, I hear a soft groan followed by her defiant, “Don’t ever fucking touch me again, prick,” and I whip my head around, seeking her out.
Her eyes are wide and haunted, and I glance over her shoulder to figure out if the guy she just brought to his knees was one of mine or Christian’s. If he’s Christian’s, he’s going to die anyway, but if he’s one of mine, he’s going to face the firing squad if I find that he put his hands on my girl.