Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103656 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 415(@250wpm)___ 346(@300wpm)
“You’re still weak, though,” Damien continues in his one-sided monologue. “Weak getting strong, so there’s an improvement. Here’s a piece of advice.”
He gets closer, and I’m assaulted by the smell of cigarettes. “You’re a good sniper, eh? Train those arms and stick to that.”
That’s the same thing Kirill told me a long time ago. Do they really think I can’t get physically stronger? In that case, I would be happy to prove them wrong, even if it’s the last thing I do.
“Now pay me for that advice,” he says with a grin that would look charming under different circumstances.
Damien is a very attractive man with a shock of dark hair, dark brows, and piercing green-gray eyes, but the charm stops there. His personality doesn’t make up for it, and I’m apparently broken, because I keep comparing every man’s looks to Kirill's.
No one even comes close to that monster’s intense attractiveness.
“Pay you?” I echo his words.
“Yeah, I gave advice, and I expect payment.”
“I never asked for advice and, therefore, refuse to provide any type of payment.”
“Now, now.” He wraps an arm around my shoulder. “Don’t be so stiff, Sasha. That’s your problem, you know. You take everything way too seriously. Be like your boss and start being a little laid-back.”
Kirill is anything but laid-back. He’s ruthless. He’s calculative. And most importantly, he’s merciless.
I’ve seen him kill people without a second thought and order his men to do it for him because he can’t be bothered.
But because he’s methodical and gives off a playful, somewhat chill public persona, everyone, including those in the organization, think he’s easy to approach and deal with.
Which I’m sure is a tactic he’s using to bring their guard down and hit them when they least expect it. Damien and Mikhail are the only ones who fall for it readily. The others might not show it, but they’re wary of Kirill. Especially Rai, which is concerning since she’s holding a ‘secret’ over his head.
Damien brings my attention back to him when he tightens his hold on my shoulder. “I won’t ask for a lot for payment. Just forward me Kirill’s schedule for the week.”
“With all due respect, I decline.”
“Oh, come on, that won’t cost you anything.”
“I’m forbidden to reveal anything about Boss’s schedule. Besides”—I give him the side-eye—“don’t you think this is a little excessive and stalker-ish?”
It is very stalker-ish, but I refrain from saying that out of respect for his position.
“Blame your fucking boss. If he agreed like a normal human being, I wouldn’t have to do this.”
The door of the conference room opens, and Kirill comes out first, talking with Adrian. He casts a mere glance toward us, but it’s enough to make me breathe heavily.
I thought that with the passage of time, I’d become immune to the hold Kirill has on me. I’d learn to be less self-conscious around him, and he’d stop affecting me with a mere look, but I was miserably wrong. Not only is the effect there, but it’s also grown.
We’ve been in a sexual relationship for months, using each other, as I so stupidly said that day he fucked me in his car. I didn’t mean to, but I was hurt by how he chose to sleep on the sofa instead of the bed that first time.
Before that, I genuinely thought he stayed up all night working, but he slept just fine, just not beside me.
So I assumed we were using each other for sex, and apparently, I assumed correctly. He fucks me like a madman every day, sometimes a few times a day—in his office, in the car, or while waiting for a drug shipment. Wherever he deems fit.
But he still has never slept beside me on the bed. Not even once. I’ve tried telling him I’ll help him sleep, but he vehemently refuses. My pride is a little wounded since I seriously thought I’d accomplished something by helping him fall asleep that time before the drug shipment.
For some reason, however, he’s felt a bit more distant since then.
When I asked him why he moved my clothes to his closet, he said it was more ‘convenient’ that way. I really hate the apathetic tone he speaks with sometimes.
So, as a form of revenge, I’ve developed the habit of staying up late with the guys and crashing at their place whenever I feel like being a brat.
That usually only increases his already insatiable sexual appetite, though.
And just like that, we’ve fallen into this life of sexual gratification, physical attraction, and mad lust. It’ll eventually come to an end—I know that. But I still don’t want it to stop just yet.
Maybe it’s useless selfishness, but Kirill, or more like this mythical attraction to him, is the only thing I’ve done for myself in a very long time. If I were to let it go, I’d feel like I was being forced back behind the bars of my previous prison.