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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But everything has changed.

“It’s probably best if I stay in my room,” I tell him. “To keep things the way you want them. Less messy.”

He frowns, but doesn’t argue.

“It’s for the best,” I repeat again.

37

Alexei

“What have you done now?” Magda asks me after she sets down my breakfast.

“I don’t know what you mean,” I answer, turning my attention back to the computer.

She taps on my desk to let me know she is not through.

“You have not spent any time with Talia in over two weeks. She is slipping, Lyoshka. Slipping back into her sadness.”

“She wants things I cannot give her.”

“That is ridiculous,” Magda replies. “You are supposed to give her everything. She is pregnant. Now is the time when she needs you most.”

“I have done everything I can for her. I have scheduled doctor’s appointments. Ensured she is eating the best food. I have given her free rein to decorate the nursery any way she likes. What else can I do?”

“Perhaps pull your head out of your ass,” Magda suggests.

I blink at her, sure I misread her. But I did not.

Magda has never spoken to me that way. Not since I was a young boy in her care.

“You have a dinner party this evening,” she reminds me. “It is supposed to be a celebration. What excuses will you give for the frown on your wife’s face?”

Perhaps the same as my own since she has not allowed me to touch her since that night. She has made excuses of not feeling well, and I did not press. After the second time, I did not bother returning to her room at all. She has not come to me either. And we are at an impasse.

I am irritable already. And Magda is not helping matters.

“She will get over it,” I tell Magda in an effort to appease her. “It’s just hormones.”

She curses me in Russian. And then says the thing which she knows will affect me the most.

“I am disappointed in you, Alyoshka. And I’m beginning to think that you are not up to the task of marriage. Or fatherhood for that matter.”

“That is enough.” I slam my hand on my desk. “You will not speak to me that way.”

“I will speak to you any way that I choose,” she replies. “I am not one of your Vory. I am the woman who raised you. And if you cannot share your heart with Talia, then how on earth do you ever intend to share it with your own child?”

With those words hanging between us, she leaves.

Talia is in her room when I step inside. Dressed for the party. In a designer dress and heels. Just as a Vor’s wife should be.

She looks lovely. And miserable.

I can hardly even look at her. Look at what I’ve done to her all over again.

“You are beautiful,” I tell her.

When I kiss her on the forehead, there is no reply. She nods and meets my gaze.

“Is it time?”

“Yes.”

I want to stop her when she moves towards the door. I want to make her smile again. I want to tell her that I’ll cut out Arman’s heart and give it to her on a silver platter, if it would make her smile again.

But that isn’t what she wants right now.

She wants a piece of me. She wants more than I offered her. She is changing the rules of the game halfway through.

I reach for her arm and halt her, and she looks up at me with a blank expression.

“Don’t worry,” she says. “I won’t embarrass you tonight.”

Her words cut me. And she does not give me any time to make amends. I don’t blame her. But when we move downstairs, I’m on edge. I like to feel as though we are a team. Like before. But now we are as separate as two people can be.

Just as I told her I wanted.

Magda has already greeted our guests when we reach the bottom. A close party of the other Vory and their family members. Everyone is here to celebrate my wife’s pregnancy. Including Sergei and Katya.

It is ridiculous, considering the sour expressions on their faces when I see them. But it is tradition. Viktor is very traditional in this regard. Every season, every change… there is a party.

“Lyoshenka.” He greets me with a firm handshake. “What is this frown on your face? Have you heard the news already?”

I blink at him, unclear what he is referring to.

He pulls me aside and ensures we have privacy while the other guests congratulate Talia.

“Tonight is a celebration,” he says. “I don’t want to dampen the mood.”

“Just tell me what it is Viktor,” I insist. “I won’t relax otherwise.”

“We have a complication,” he announces. “Arman is stateside. With both shipments and an additional for our troubles.”

“He wants Talia back,” I state.

Viktor nods, and we both fall silent.


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