Total pages in book: 58
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56507 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 188(@300wpm)
When a tall, handsome stranger appears in my ballet studio one day, I almost think I’m dreaming. He looks at me with an intense possessiveness that has me wishing he wasn’t the bad guy. He doesn’t give me a choice—I have to go with him.
A dash across the country brings us to the East Coast. He says he’s taking me to my long-lost mother, but there’s no way I can trust him.But then everything gets messy. We start making jokes. We start getting physical. And, it turns out, my mother really is here.
When my brothers show up to save me from my handsome kidnapper, I’m left with a choice. Stay with my mother and the man I’m falling for, or go back to my regular old life?
*Deceitful Promises is an insta-everything, romance with a HEA, no cheating, and no cliffhanger. Sokolov Bratva is an interconnected series that can be read as a standalone. I recommend reading the books in order.
*************FULL BOOK START HERE*************
CHAPTER 1
AIDEN
Imove into the lion’s den, the Sokolov estate, using tunnels built long before the brothers took control of the Bratva. I’ve got one goal—her, Ania. She’s the only person who matters here. If nobody gets in my way, I won’t hurt them.
I can’t let her stay with these criminals. I can’t let them think they own her.
Her mother’s waiting for her; a new life is waiting.
No part of me wants this to come to violence, but if anybody gets in my way, I’ll do what I have to do—what I am trained to do.
When the moment comes, Ania looks at me almost like … I shouldn’t let myself think it, but she looks at me almost like she wants me to take her. It’s like she’s been waiting for this moment.
CHAPTER 2
ANIA
Okay, so I must be the most naive person ever. After all that life has thrown at me, the allegro of ups and downs and the tempo never stopping, the pirouettes of pain—not knowing my mom, knowing my dad was evil, loving him anyway, wishing I could hate him—after all this, I still thought the Sokolovs had reached their happily ever after.
Now, this strangely handsome man is driving me through the desert. I’m sitting in the back, no bindings on my hands, no gag in my mouth.
“This doesn’t feel like a kidnapping,” I murmur. My voice sounds distant. It feels like it belongs to somebody else somehow. Maybe this is how I will deal with this—from a distance.
“You can call it what you want,” he says.
It’s like he’s trying to make his tone mean, low, and cruel, but it doesn’t sound right.
“You don’t seem like a criminal.”
He makes a pfft noise, and I immediately know what he’s thinking.
“I might be a kid in your eyes, but I’ve been around enough Bratva to be able to tell.”
“Go on then,” he says with a sarcastic note of indulgence. I think he’s almost smirking as I study him in the rearview. “Why don’t you tell me who I am, Ania.”
It’s not a question. It has the quality of a command like he’ll make me do things anyway. Silly, crazy thoughts grip me as I think that—the sort of thoughts I shouldn’t allow into my head about this kidnapping stranger.
“Military,” I tell him.
“Too many rules,” he growls.
“Ex-military, then.”
He glances at me in the mirror, surging down the dusty, lonely road. “Hmm.”
“Hmm? Is that a yes or a no?”
“It’s a hmm.”
“You’re a very well-spoken person. Has anybody ever told you that before?”
It’s easier to hide behind humor. I need to be careful not to feel too proud when a smirk twitches his lips. He wipes it away like he’s ashamed, grimacing at the road, but I saw it. I felt that flutter of warm something in my belly.
“You seem more well-spoken than me,” he says.
“That’s what happens when you spend your life dancing and reading.” A voice whispers in my head. I think it’s Dimitri saying, Don’t let him fool you. You’re too trusting. The first chance you get, run. I tried to run when he first appeared like magic, and where did that get me? He felt so strong and possessive as he looped his arm around me.
“Hmm,” he says again.
“Is that your catchphrase?”
“It’s easy to remember.”
Now I’m the one who has to wipe away a smile. I hide it behind my hand. I can’t let him think that my coping mechanism is how I really feel. I can’t let him believe he has the right to break into my home, take me, and then, just like that, everything’s okay.
“So I assume you’re working for another big bad Bratva,” I say, my voice cracking. There’s panic in there somewhere beneath the numbness.