Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 80942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80942 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 405(@200wpm)___ 324(@250wpm)___ 270(@300wpm)
Though I have to. In order to keep protecting her and Jeremy, I need to be on top of things and not let anything slip past me.
The back seat opens and Yan slides to my side, smelling of trash. He rubs his nose with his dirty gloves and retrieves a cigarette.
He looks like shit.
But he doesn’t seem to mind as long as he gets to protect Lia.
Kolya’s ex-colleague did wonders on Yan’s features. Not only did he make him look a few decades older, but he also changed his face map in a way that gives him a completely different appearance.
Yan is currently Larry, an ex-veteran who has high cheekbones and graying hair.
He’s always by Lia’s side unless he needs to touch up on his disguise, and that’s when either Boris, Kolya, or I keep an eye on her from afar.
Sometimes I watch even when Yan is with her. Partly to see her smile and partly to give my fucker guard strikes in case he touches her.
“Did she mention anything?” I ask the same question I do every day.
He shakes his head once, blowing a cloud of smoke. “The usual. She really does believe herself to be Winter.”
I tap my finger against my thigh to keep from punching something. I should be used to it by now, but I never am.
Every day, I hope that she’ll remember me. That she’ll come back.
Dr. Taylor mentioned that the fugue state could last from days to months, and that Lia would eventually remember who she actually is.
It’s been a month already and yet, my wife seems more interested in being a different person altogether.
Yan drags a deep inhale of his smoke, then releases it. “There’s something you need to know, Boss.”
“Talk.”
“That motherfucker Richard put his hands on her.”
My body goes rigid. “What?”
“He harassed her and she kicked him in the balls—among other things—before she left.”
Two emotions rush through me simultaneously. The first is rage. A dark foreboding grips me by the gut at the thought of Richard or any other bastard touching my Lia. I’ll rip every last one of them limb from limb and bathe in their blood so they learn to never fuck with what’s mine.
The second is pride in my Lenochka. She fought because that’s what she is deep down.
A fighter.
The first emotion is stronger and more potent, compelling me to shred Richard’s heart out of his chest and tear him fucking apart.
I tighten my hand into a fist. “Where is Richard?”
“In his office.” Yan taps his cigarette. “Why are you asking?”
“Why do you think?”
“He’s the Bratva’s mayoral candidate, Boss,” Kolya interrupts from the driver’s seat. “Not only would Sergei not like it, but he would also consider it a betrayal.”
“What Sergei doesn’t know won’t hurt him.”
I step out of the car and stalk to the back entrance of the shelter. Since I’ve been here countless times either to talk business with Richard or to keep an eye on Lia, I know my way around.
The director of the shelter isn’t aware of who my wife is and he would never suspect that she’s under his roof. When I first had Kolya talk to him about it, he thought she was a prostitute I intended to fuck.
That was his mistake.
At first, I let him believe that because I couldn’t care less what he thought.
But who the fuck is he to believe he could touch her?
That he could put his filthy hands on her?
I twist the doorknob of his office, opening the door and slipping inside. The place is shabby with a faux leather sofa and a desk made of cheap wood.
Richard stands by his chair, dabbing a piece of cotton against his cheek that has fingernail scratches.
My lips twitch as that feeling of pride hits me again.
That’s my Lenochka.
The shelter’s director is a middle-aged man with a flat nose and bushy brows. He dresses in cheap suits that make him look like a wannabe clown.
Upon noticing me, he straightens, ugly greed shining in his bland, mud-colored eyes.
“Oh,” he stumbles over his words. “A-Adrian. I didn’t know we had a meeting today.”
“We didn’t.”
He throws away the blood-soaked cotton and retrieves another one from the top of the desk. “Hold on, let me take care of this. A stupid bitch clawed me and kicked me in the balls…” he trails off when I pull out my gun and the silencer, then take my time attaching it.
Sweat breaks across Richard’s forehead as he watches the weapon with widened eyes. “W-what is that for?”
“Continue.” I stalk toward him. “You were at the part where the stupid bitch clawed you and kicked your minuscule balls.”
He lifts both hands in the air. “H-hey…we can talk about this, yeah? I’m an asset to you.”
“Not when you touch my fucking wife.” I place the muzzle to his forehead, then think better of it and grab my knife.