Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72284 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 361(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Lev doesn’t reply. He just keeps his eyes on me, and a cold shiver settles over my skin when I see the darkness in them.
“Why are you doing this to me?” I ask softly.
“Like I said, it’s nothing personal.”
“Well, it’s very fucking personal to me.”
He ignores the emotion in my voice and the disgusted look on my face. “Stop fighting this, and you might actually start to enjoy it.”
“You’re insane.”
“Maybe, but I’m not the one fighting a losing battle.”
“I’ll fight until I have no breath left.”
“You can’t win, so don’t try.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe it is a losing battle, and I should save my energy.
“So what happens now?” I ask, my mind scrambling to work out my next move.
“I’ll follow you back to the estate.” He walks over to his car. “And this time, don’t try to run. You’re lucky it was me that found you, and not Igor. He loves that car, and he doesn’t like to share.”
I watch him climb into the Lamborghini and rev the engine.
Defeated, I climb into the Phantom. But for a split second, I think about making a break for it and driving into a ditch so the police officer has no other option than to take me down to the station or at least call an ambulance. But I know I’ve lost this battle, and if I want to win the war, I’ll have to play it a lot smarter than stealing a car and hoping it works out while I make a break for it.
No, I’m going to have to play his game. And I need to play it better than him. I’ll fool him into thinking I am going along with this crazy plan and then blow it up in his face when I have enough evidence to take to the authorities.
Turning on the ignition, I reluctantly swing the car around and follow Lev back to the Zarkov Estate. Igor is waiting at the steps to the mansion, his expressionless face somehow screaming disappointment and anger at me, and I can’t help but feel bad. Like I’ve disappointed my favorite uncle.
“It wasn’t Igor’s fault,” I say to Lev as I hold out the keys for him.
I don’t know why, but I feel the need to defend the seven-foot robot.
“I will deal with Igor later,” Lev says gruffly, taking the keys from me. “Once I’ve dealt with you.”
23
BROOKE
Once we’re back inside, I storm up the stairs to my room. Lev follows me and closes the door behind him.
“You can’t keep me here,” I yell at him.
“You’re right. That’s why you’re free to leave at any time.”
“Then why call the cops on me?”
“Like I said, you’re free to go… just not in my two-hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar car.”
“And involving the police was your way of showing me how they’re in your pocket, I suppose.”
He smiles. “How very astute of you.”
I’m so angry I could cry.
Get it together, Brooke.
“You’d really let me walk out of here?” I ask.
“I already let you walk out of here before. Saw you sneak across the hallway and down the stairs.”
“You saw that?”
“This house is full of eyes and ears. Nothing goes unnoticed.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “But you didn’t try to stop me.”
“On the contrary, when you decided to steal my car, that’s when I stepped in.”
“So if I ask to leave, you’d let me go? Just like that?”
He walks to the bedroom door and opens it. “Leave if you want to. I can have Igor drop you somewhere. Although, after the little stunt you pulled today, I’m not sure he’s going to be very happy with you. The Phantom is his pride and joy. He’s a little possessive, and you took it without his permission.”
I look at the open door.
It’s a trick.
Or Lev is driving home the point that despite being free to leave, there will be consequences to pay if I do.
“You will kill Wilson if I walk through that door.”
“There are always terms and conditions to any contract.” He smirks. “You have a choice, zayka. Stay or leave. If you stay, Wilson keeps his brain in his head. If you leave, well, I don’t think I need to spell it out for you.”
I turn away from him, frustrated. My hands are tied. I pour myself a glass of water from the jug on the armoire beneath the bedroom window.
“So what happens now?” I turn back to look at him, resisting the urge to throw the glass and its contents at him. “Now that you have me backed into this corner?”
“You have too much time on your hands.” He walks toward me, adjusting the cuffs on one sleeve. He stops just short of where I’m standing, but he still towers over me. His scent engulfs me. “Maybe if I keep you occupied doing other things, you will be too busy to defy me.”