Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89090 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 445(@200wpm)___ 356(@250wpm)___ 297(@300wpm)
“Annihilating it,” I interrupt, smirking.
He pffts me. “The only thing about to get annihilated is you when Alek finds out. You know he’s super protective of her. Pavel’s face must still be wearing the scars of his beatdown. Don’t ask about his body. He’d probably wear long-sleeve shirts even during a Mexican summer.”
“Did you have to mention that fuckface?” I scold like I didn’t bring him up myself an hour ago.
His Elvis curl bounces as he shrugs. “Just trying to warn you what could happen when Alek finds out.” His next words are whispers. “Especially if he finds her like that.”
I stray my eyes to my bedroom door before returning them to Feo.
This kills me to admit, but he has a point.
“If she doesn’t calm down in a couple of minutes, I give you permission to free her. Though I don’t recommend you enter without protection. Her aim is precise as fuck and maiming.” I double back on my offer when jealousy smacks into me hard and fast. “And a blindfold. You better wear a fucking blindfold.” When I can’t breathe through the possessiveness stealing the air from my lungs, I mutter, “Fuck it. I’ll free her myself.”
My stomps back to my room are loud and thunderous, yet they have little effect on the blonde-haired beauty snoozing in the middle of my bed. The pillow Polina tried to hide her smile with earlier is propped up under her shoulder and neck, and the leather strap holding her hostage cradles her head.
She looks peaceful—in a sexy-as-fuck BDSM kind of way.
And the visual has me determined to never let her go.
1
POLINA
SIX MONTHS LATER…
“I searched all those boxes. We’re out of micro-dick belts.”
As I blow a wayward hair out of my eye and struggle not to laugh at Natalya’s witty comment, I dig through a box of stock in the storage closet of my boutique clothing store.
Most of our stock is on the racks, so the only boxes stored in this dingy, cold room are the consequences of poor decisions. I get a little eager when a rep offers me a shipment at a drastically reduced cost. They taught me that the saying “it’s too good to be true” is gospel. None of the products in the boxes are designer, and more times than not, they’re accessories an average person can’t use—such as a man’s belt in a size most women would struggle to fit into.
“Yes,” I shout when my rummage through my fourth box this evening has my hands landing on a bunch of smooth leather belts. “What is his waist size again?”
“Twenty-eight,” Nat replies. She’s been working at the boutique for the past couple of months. She is a great girl, but she can’t tell the difference between a Valentino and a Saks Avenue rip-off if her life depended on it.
She is not here for the love of fashion. She needs a paycheck that doesn’t come from any industry her parents run. Since I understand the desire to live outside your family’s safety net, I only glower at her when she confuses my designer babies with the mass-produced garments her roommates get around in.
When I find a belt that’ll give our customer a bit of leverage to let out if his waist size expands, I’m shocked by its short length. Yev wouldn’t have been able to hold anyone hostage with a belt this short. It wouldn’t have made it around the wooden knobs carved in his headboard, let alone leave enough strap for a headrest.
I was so angry that day I was determined to kill Yev in the most painful way possible. Then Feo entered his room with his hand covering his eyes and his face as white as a ghost.
Alek had kept me out of the life our father forced him to live when he killed our mother, but I knew the lockdown situation he drummed into my head the instant I returned to Kronstadt meant something big was going down.
When Feo left me to help his brother, my anger shifted to fear before it eventually grew into panic.
The men Alek trusted to keep me off his enemies’ radar rarely spoke around me, but there was one lot of gossip I wish I hadn’t heard while waiting for Yev and Feo to return.
For days, the Bobrov crew believed Yev had been killed by Kirill. It was only after Alek stormed the ship Ana had been held hostage on did the gossip mongers discover their error. It wasn’t Yev Kirill gunned down for no apparent reason other than standing up for his God-given rights.
It was Feo, his younger brother.
Yev is alive, but you wouldn’t believe that with how absent he’s been. I haven’t seen him since the night he tied me to his bed. He’s been a ghost, and I’d be a liar if I said I haven’t been grieving him as much as I have Feo for the past six months.