Total pages in book: 106
Estimated words: 108119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 108119 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 541(@200wpm)___ 432(@250wpm)___ 360(@300wpm)
Her hand inched up my thigh and then she was unbuttoning my jeans.
I wasn’t wearing boxers because my jeans were tight and I didn’t want to be constricted.
So, she had no preparation for me.
For the size of me.
For what she thought she was going to do.
Her eyes widened. “I’ve never felt more like a virgin in my entire life.”
Makes two of us.
I leaned over and pressed a kiss to the side of her mouth. “I’m currently bleeding out on your bed, you’ve proved your point — son of—”
She gripped me with her right hand.
I ducked my head next to her shoulder and tried not to draw blood as I bit down on my bottom lip. Her hands were velvet.
Smooth.
She explored every inch of me.
And I’d never been more at anyone’s mercy than I was in that moment.
Bleeding all over a girl who wanted nothing more than to pleasure me the way I did her.
“Alice—”
“Do you realize you say my name now? No more six thirty-two… even though I was getting really attached to that number.” She squeezed harder. “And the way you said it.”
“Fuck.” I was dying. I braced myself over her and shook my head slowly. “The knife won’t kill me. This, however, might.”
“I don’t want you dead.” Tears sparkled in her eyes as she moved her hand back and forth and whispered, “I want to give you life.”
I growled against her mouth, trying not to crush her hand as she moved, trying not to rush what I wanted to last forever.
Trying not to think about pulling down her leggings and sinking myself into her.
I told myself this was justifiable.
Sex wouldn’t be.
This was okay.
This would be fine.
This was everything.
I moaned her name.
I was so damn close.
I wanted it to last longer.
Gently, she pressed me onto my back, her eyes raking over me as she very slowly lowered her head.
I flinched. “Alice, don’t, seriously don’t—”
The word died on my lips.
And I, Andrei Petrov, heir to one of the deadliest mobs in history.
Fell.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Phoenix
His damn phone was off, which meant she was either alive or dead.
Perfect.
I tapped my fingers against the black folder and weighed my options as I sat alone at the kitchen table, drinking a glass of wine, wondering when the other shoe was going to fall.
If the De Langes were the ones locating the girls and dropping them off at the clubs, then the world finally made sense again.
We would need to send in Chase. Fast.
And we would need the FBI to raid the club in a way that made it look like the Italians and Russians weren’t ratting each other out or working with each other.
Shit.
I stared into my wine glass as the sound of feet hitting the hardwood gave me pause.
“Junior.” I smiled as a I said his name. “You were supposed to be in bed.”
“I was in bed.” Smart ass. He was wearing Spiderman pajamas and had a shit eating grin on his face. “I just wanted a drink of water.”
“You have a glass by the bed.” I pointed out.
“It’s not my batman one.”
Patience. Patience. Patience. “Oh, I’m sorry does the water taste different depending on the cup?”
“YUP!”
Dear God.
“So, your dinosaur cup?”
“Poop.” He laughed. “It tastes like poop!”
I grabbed him and pulled him onto my lap while he fell into a fit of giggles.
Three children were out there waiting to be pulled into the protective fold of our family.
The only problem was the name associated with them.
The only problem was the De Langes wanted them as much as we did, and Andrei didn’t even know they existed.
The grandfather clock chimed midnight.
There was only one thing we could do.
After all, Andrei would need his family. He would need people he trusted, people he could rely on.
Fucking hell.
I kissed my son on the head. “Off to bed, Junior, I’ll be in there in five minutes.”
“All right.” He skipped away.
I grabbed my phone.
I was creating more chaos.
We were supposed to be at peace.
I was inviting more war.
But if it helped us destroy what was left of the De Langes, if it gave Andrei the support he needed, the family that he never had the chance to have.
I would do it.
I dialed the number to Italian royalty.
The pure bloods.
I called in the Sinacore family.
“Yes?” A heavily accented voice said smoothly into the phone. “What is it, Nicolasi?”
“The missing Sinacore heirs.” I bit down on my lip. “I have one, as well as the location of the other two.”
He was silent and then. “In the States?”
“Chicago.”
“How long have you known this?”
“Long enough.”
His sigh was long, hard. “You risk war bringing the children into this. They are the rightful heirs.”
“We risk war either way. It’s their birthright.”
“Where is the boy?”
“Man.” I grinned to myself. “He’s a man… You know him by the name of Andrei Petrov.”
I will never forget the amount of cursing that occurred before arrangements were made.