Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 93506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 468(@200wpm)___ 374(@250wpm)___ 312(@300wpm)
“I might consider trusting you if you don’t go trying to get yourself killed. Got it?”
My heart warms, and I think it’ll explode from the sheer pressure his mere words have put on it.
He might trust me.
Well, consider to trust me, but it’s a beginning all the same.
Kirill is a lot of things, but he’s not the type who dishes out empty hope.
“And do us all a favor.” He narrows his eyes. “Stop befriending people and being a busybody, Lipovsky.”
“It’s Sasha.” The words get stuck at the back of my throat. “I hate it when you call me by my last name.”
His face remains the same, short of the clenching of his jaw and the slow adjusting of his glasses.
“Stay. Fucking. Put.” He enunciates every word, then, just like that, he closes the door in my face.
10
KIRILL
I have a bad feeling today.
There’s nothing out of the ordinary in my routine, but something isn’t clicking. I’m not sure if it’s people, food, or even my fucking men.
Everything is wrong in some way—a bit crooked, twisted, and completely…out of reach.
The last time I felt this way was when I was on the top of that hill in the middle of nowhere and saw the mercenaries behind Aleksandra.
I haven’t started to deal with that, and now, we have this. Whatever this is.
“Is everything in order?” I ask Viktor on my way to the car.
“As usual.”
That still doesn’t erase the uncomfortable feeling.
I stop in front of the house and cast a glance at my surroundings, which are shrouded in the night’s darkness. Three vans, all full of my men, who I might as well be leading to their deaths.
Like I did to Rulan and the others.
“Maksim,” I call.
He lifts his head from checking his weapon. My focus shifts briefly to Aleksandra who’s standing next to him. At my appearance, she straightens until her shoulders nearly snap.
For over three months, I’ve been attempting to erase her from my reality and have only managed to fail miserably.
On one hand, I want to tie her up and torture her for answers, using unorthodox methods that are more sexual than physical. But that thought soon fades.
If I go down that road, I’ll be the one with a problem that’s been manifesting itself every day in the form of my cock’s hate speech. He’s been my enemy for months after failing to put him to use.
Last week, when she came up with that idiotic idea about spying on Adrian, it took all my self-control not to indulge in my cock’s sadistic plans.
Do I have contempt for that woman? Absolutely. That doesn’t stop me from seeing her as the subject of my fucked-up desire.
I should probably put more effort into actually searching for another woman to fuck. One problem, though. My cock is a dick—literally—because he’s been excruciatingly not interested in any other pussy.
The only time he jumps to life is when she’s in sight. He doesn’t care that she’s a deathtrap waiting to happen. Even right now, when she’s looking more nervous than Karina when she’s outside, my cock strains against my pants, demanding to be fed.
I’m supposed to be attending to something important, but I find myself watching her instead. Her posture is erect, translating the clear discipline she's been maintaining for years. While she’ll never be as muscular as the other men, she has been following a strict routine that Yuri specifically made for her, and she’s easily the best sniper we have.
Which could be bad news because she colluded with other people against me.
By other people, I mean her fucking lover that I still can’t find. Viktor has come up empty regarding the whole Belsky Organization that could offer us some insight into the situation.
Apparently, his friend in the KGB has the same level of information we do. He did promise Viktor that if anything comes up in Russia on this matter, we’ll be the first to know.
What the fuck are you hiding?
I know Aleksandra wants my approval. She’s been working tirelessly for months, even when I gave her the cold shoulder and excluded her from important meetings to make her feel less important.
What? She got me shot, or her lover did and she’s still helping him.
Call me Petty Fucking Betty because I won’t stop acting this way until she finally confesses the bastard’s name.
She tightens her fingers as if she’s suppressing something and subtly lowers her head. It’s then I realize I might have been staring at her longer than socially acceptable.
“Yes, Boss?” Maksim stands before me, oblivious to the tension he cut through.
“I’m going to need you and your team to stay back.”
His brow furrows. “Why? We’re always at these shipments.”
“We have no use for too many men. Guard the mansion instead.”
“Yes, Boss.”
Aleksandra starts toward the main car, but I face her. “You stay back, too, Lipovsky.”