Total pages in book: 61
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 59804 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 299(@200wpm)___ 239(@250wpm)___ 199(@300wpm)
Guilt assaulted me the rest of the way to the house.
She was quiet as we pulled up to the two-story brick mansion. Not only did it have windows, but it looked like something out of a Builder’s magazine. Nothing but the best for our new boss.
Shit, I hated him.
Mine. It should have been mine, would have been mine.
And now I wanted out because watching someone step into your Family, take everything that you thought would be yours, and be forced to report to them day in and day out? What sort of torture was that? I’d rather slit my wrists, thank you.
The SUV pulled to a stop in front of the massive entrance. The guy who tortured with tigers had a water fountain. Really? And plants? The man had trees.
Wonders never fucking cease.
Andrei, all blond hair and bright blue eyes, looking every inch Russian, not Italian, walked out of the house with a glass of wine in his hand.
I did a double take, then uttered, “Did Hell freeze over?”
He narrowed his eyes and looked down at me like he was sorry for my existence. “You tell me. You’re the one who has a house there.”
Wow, nice, not a dad joke in there.
“Nice sweater.” A sweater. He was wearing a fucking black cable knit sweater.
He flipped me off and then downed the entire glass of wine with murder in his eyes. His icy stare just amused me more. I half expected him to toss the glass into the bushes and start cursing at me in every language he knew—which would probably take a while.
“Pretty sure you’re supposed to sip that.” I shrugged, “You sip wine, you shoot tequila.” As gently as I could, I kind of thrust the girl forward. “All right, consider the package delivered.”
Andrei burst out laughing. “That’s funny.” He pointed his wine glass at me, then elbowed one of his men, Ax, “Isn’t he funny?”
“Hilarious,” he deadpanned. “I’m laughing on the inside, may shit my pants, who knows?”
“Inside.” Andrei’s smile disappeared instantly into a lethal stare that said asking questions would produce blood—your own. “Both of you. Now.”
I clenched my hands into fists. I hated that he was my boss. I hated getting ordered around like I was a child. I’d rather he hit me.
He was younger than me by five years and ordered me around like he had a right to.
Which technically, he did.
Unless I killed him.
That brought a smile to my face.
I put my hand on the girl’s back and led her inside a home that looked nothing like the club Andrei owned.
The warm colors of fall hit me like a hammer over the head, it smelled like pumpkin and chocolate chip cookies, and honest to God, a roaring fire was set.
His wife was knitting next to it.
Knitting. KNITTING!
Was I the only one seeing this? Had I walked into a parallel universe?
“She likes making sweaters,” Andrei said under his breath. “Says it keeps her mind off all the killing and torture.”
“That’s absolutely lovely,” I muttered. “I guess everyone needs a hobby outside of killing.”
He elbowed me. “You should try it. We all need a release.” He looked from me to the girl—to his sister. “What happened to your brother?”
She frowned at him, opened her mouth then closed it. Her lower lip trembled so hard that her chin started to shake. I wanted to wrap an arm around her, but it wasn’t my place.
She was a delivery.
A job.
Just a job.
A thing.
She literally had no worth to me other than a way out. That’s how I had to see it before the look in her eyes made me want to actually acknowledge that a heart still miraculously beat inside my chest.
“She’s still in shock,” I answered for her, not sure why I was helping her, getting more involved than I should. We weren’t friends. I wasn’t her hero. And this wasn’t a fairy tale, even if there was a roaring fire and what looked like a plate of cookies on the coffee table. The very least I could do was be her mouthpiece. Hey, maybe I could cuss at Andrei for her. That would be nice, he did say everyone needs a hobby… That could be mine, right?
“You.” She finally found her voice, and then she reached for me, of all people, gripping my arm as she repeated the same thing three more times, then “I feel like I know you.”
For being injured, she sure hung onto me for dear life so hard that I was surprised she was even able to. I didn’t reciprocate, I didn’t move a muscle, I just allowed her to squeeze me like one of those plushy toys toddlers liked.
Ah, plushy toys… I distinctly remember my dad burning mine. “Memories are meant to burn just like that toy.”
I stood still.
Andrei was frozen in place. His smile was sad. “Welcome home, Katya.”