Ghost Read Online A. Zavarelli books (Boston Underworld #3)

Categories Genre: Action, Alpha Male, Angst, Bad Boy, Crime, Dark, New Adult, Romance, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Boston Underworld Series by A. Zavarelli
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Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 85224 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
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Only when Nikolai’s shoulders fall in defeat, does Alexei turn to me. Gripping me by the arm and yanking me from the chair. Scolding me like a child for all to see.

“You are my wife,” he hisses into my ear. “You can no longer conduct yourself the way you did at Arman’s.”

His words are like acid to my insides.

“You mean like a whore?” I pull back to look at him.

His eyes are cold, filled with accusation and anger. No trace of the man who kissed me on the dance floor only thirty minutes ago.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” he answers.

My throat is clogged, and there are tears threatening to spill over. I don’t want him to see me cry. I don’t want him to see that he has that power over me. The power to hurt me.

“Go to the wash room and compose yourself,” he demands. “And when you come back, perhaps you can make it through the rest of the evening with better judgment.”

Tanaka stands up, her voice soft and quiet when she speaks. “I will accompany her.”

“You will not,” Alexei barks. “She must learn how to conduct herself at these events.”

And then he releases me from his grip, leaving the tears to spill down my face as I make my walk of shame down the hall and to the bathroom.

I lock myself in and cry for twenty minutes. I have not cried so much in as long as I can remember. Because I know now that all my bravado has been for nothing. Alexei does have the power to hurt me. Just as I do him.

But it will not change a thing.

I am still only his wife. And he is only my husband. And he will never let those feelings prosper. Because he is stronger than I am. And the weakness I swore I would never have is staring me right in the face again.

I am falling for a man who is using me.

Who will only ever use me.

When all of my tears have run dry, and the acceptance of my reality has settled upon me, I move to the mirror and glance at my reflection. But I can’t look at her. I can’t look at that girl right now.

The door opens behind me, and it confuses me. I thought I locked it.

“Sorry,” I murmur, without opening my eyes. “I’ll be out of here in just a moment.”

Strong hands come around my waist and pull me back into a hard body. I sigh and relax in those arms. And then blurt something honest and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry if I hurt you. Embarrassed you.”

“Hurt me?” dark laughter echoes through the cavernous bathroom, and dread crawls through my veins. “It has been some time, but I don’t recall you ever hurting me, Talia.”

My heart throttles against my chest. And I’m frozen. I don’t want to look. But I have to. Because that voice is the one from my nightmares. The one who betrayed me worse than any other before him. The one who changed my life forever and destroyed the last hope of human decency that I harbored.

“Dmitri.”

The word is like sandpaper on my tongue.

He kisses my neck, his breath hot on my skin. “Yes. Did you miss me?”

I open my eyes, and the room spins. But I can only focus on him. His reflection in the mirror. His body behind me, trapping me. With nowhere to go.

“Arman misses you,” he tells me, his fingers moving over my body like he still has that right.

And I’m too numb to move. To think. To do anything but let him. I wasn’t prepared for this. I’ve never been prepared for this.

“He wants you back.”

My legs wobble, and he tightens his grip on me to keep me upright. But he doesn’t stop talking. It doesn’t even faze him.

“You are just as beautiful as I remember.” He presses his nose into my hair and inhales, and my stomach roils at the sight of him touching me again. “Perhaps we could spend some time together before I must return you. I did always enjoy your company.”

And this is the thing that snaps me out of my frozen horror. I turn around and shove him away from me, and to my surprise, he does not argue. He simply laughs and moves towards the door, giving me one last lingering glance.

“Your new lover plays chess, yes?” he asks.

I don’t reply. But he already knows.

“Perhaps you should remind him that it is never wise to leave the queen unprotected, little one. En Prise, as the French like to say.”

He reaches for the door, and I crumple against the wall.

“Deliver that message for me, Talia,” he tells me. “And I will see you soon. Very soon.”

And then he’s gone.

31

Talia

I move through the hall in a daze. Adrenaline flooding my veins and making every shadow appear as a threat.


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