Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
“What?” I say.
He moves closer, lowering his voice. “I don’t think she wants to do this.”
“And I do?” I growl. “Any progress?”
Mikhail gives me that searching look again. My hunger for Lia is making it difficult even to be surface-level civilized with my brother the day after my father’s death.
“Stop looking at me like that,” I grunt, reminding me of Lia again. That’s exactly what she said to me.
“It’s been a day,” Mikhail says. “I’ve started work, brother, but it might take a week. Maybe two. This is some serious digging.”
“Hmm,” I say, nodding. “I better go say hello.”
I walk onto the deck, over to the pool and the chairs. Mila looks over her shoulder when she sees me coming. She’s a nice enough-looking girl, I guess. Her hair is curlier than Lia’s, longer, and lighter. She has a similar build, but when Mila stands, I see she’s slightly taller. Freckles are scattered across her cheeks. She looks withdrawn and almost scared, but not Lia-scared, not how my firecracker gets with that determined twist to her lips despite the fear.
When she grips the corners of her skirt and does a little bow, I can tell her father told her to do it. It seems rehearsed. “Hello, Dimitri,” she says. “It’s so good to meet you finally.”
I want to leave, but Mikhail is watching us from the house, staring from the kitchen window. It’s like he wants me to make her mine so he can return to his own work.
“And you,” I force myself to say, almost offering my hand, but I decide against it. I have to marry her, kiss her, make babies with her, but I can’t shake her hand. I feel sick just thinking about it. “I hope the journey was okay.”
She nods shortly. “It was good. I had a nap.”
“Okay.”
A silence stretches out between us. If I really wanted to make this work, I’d do my best to fill the silence and eliminate the awkwardness. I find myself just standing there, wishing she was Lia instead, thinking about what it would be like to jump into the pool with my innocent, perfect artist.
I need to stop this shit.
“Have you eaten yet?” I ask.
“Yes, thank you.”
“Okay, good. We’ll… speak soon.”
Apparently, I’m trying to earn a reward for the most awkward exits. When I return to the house, Mikhail blocks my path.
“Is everything okay?”
“It’s fine,” I grunt.
“That didn’t take very long.”
“How long is hello supposed to take?”
“You just left her out there.”
“Then show her where her bedroom is,” I snarl. “You’re the underboss now, remember?”
I try to storm away, but Mikhail won’t let me. He walks into my path again, blocking me. When I go the other way, he blocks me again. “Look, it’s okay to mourn him. I know he had his problems, but it’s okay.”
“You think this is about our father?” I try to shoulder-check Mikhail out of the way, but he’s strong and doesn’t budge much.
“What is it, then? Something’s different with you.”
“Can you blame me?”
This time, he moves out of the way. I know I’m being immature and probably making this more complicated than it should be, but I can’t fake it. I can’t force it. I can’t make myself want one person over another. I never even felt the desire to want anyone until yesterday, dammit.
I spend the next two hours on a business call in my office. Then I hit the gym and eat a meal of some chicken and rice. After, I head to my bedroom, into the en suite, and take a steaming hot shower. As the water pours down my body, I think about Lia, how soft her lips were, how nervous her kiss was, to begin with, and then she made this breathy, horny noise and pulled me even closer, hungry, craving.
Moving my hand down my body, I wrap my hand around my dick, imagining what it would’ve been like to strip off her work clothes, that black skirt and those tights hiding her juicy legs, pop off her shirt, pull her bra down, and reveal her mouthwatering tits. I stroke my hand up and down and—
There’s a knock at the door to the en suite. The only person who would do that is Mikhail. It must be urgent. Turning off the shower, I call out, “What?”
There’s no reply—just another knock.
What the fuck?
Getting out of the shower, I go to the corner of the room, move aside the false wall, and open the gun safe. After taking out the loaded pistol, I move to the door, water dripping down my naked body and onto the floor.
I hear another knock but no voice. If it were Mikhail, he would’ve responded. None of my men would knock on the en-suite door unless they had to, but why aren’t they saying anything?
The only thing I can think of is that, somehow, somebody has bypassed the security and wants to take out the new boss. I open the door a crack, pushing the gun barrel through, keeping my body to the side so there’s less chance of them hitting me.