Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157491 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 787(@200wpm)___ 630(@250wpm)___ 525(@300wpm)
“I am not a child in need of protection,” she retorts hotly. “I do have to do this on my own, every bloody day. Those are my children to protect, and I will do what I must to protect them.”
“I will protect you. I will protect your sons.”
“You’ll forgive me for saying so,” she utters not meaning a word of it, “but you don’t exactly have the best record when it comes to trust.”
Air rushes from my chest, the words much angrier, much louder than I’d anticipated. “Promise me, Isla. You will never put yourself in that situation again.”
“Niko, stop!” She pulls away, pushes at my hands. “I won’t promise. I did what—”
“You did what might’ve cost your life—your liberty. You could’ve been drugged and dragged off fuck knows where, never to be seen again. Used, abused, kept smacked out and until an army of men had paid to use every one of your holes.”
She gasps. Shocked? Offended? I’ve never spoken to her like this, but I’ll do whatever it takes. Her life is in transition and she no doubt thinks of it as tough, but there is filth and heartache in this world that I swear will never touch her. Filth that should never have touched her, I silently amend. “Anatoli Aslanov deals in fear and flesh.”
“That’s what I’m trying to tell you—he wants my fear and my flesh. He expects me to work for him, to launder money. To risk my company and my life to protect my family. But he also wants me.” This she adds in tear-filled hush.
“That’s not going to happen. Ever.”
“But what can we do? He’s given me forty-eight hours to… to… Oh God.”
Color leeches from her face, even as the “we” in this scenario warms me. “We aren’t going to do anything. You’re going to leave it to me.”
“What can you do? I don’t want to put you at risk, too.”
“Has Alexander never mentioned my family?”
She takes a moment to choose her words carefully. “He intimated some things. He has suggested I shouldn’t get involved with you. And I’d heard rumours, of course. About your uncle.”
“My uncle was a very important man in the community. A wealthy man. A dangerous man.”
“Can’t he help us?”
I give a quick shake of my head. “He’s retired.”
“Who’s in charge now? Can we go to him?”
Don’t ask questions you’re not ready to hear the answers to, darling, I think as I give a half shrug.
“Who can help us, Niko?”
I press my lips to her head along with my promise. “Let me deal with this.”
“But it’s so much worse than you can imagine.” Her fingers grip mine for a beat before she reaches down to where she’d dropped her purse. Fumbling with the strap, she pulls it to her knee. “You have to promise me you won’t speak to anyone about this.”
“You can tell me anything,” I reply, wondering where this is going.
“Promise me, Niko. This must stay between us.”
I press my finger to my pounding temple because her eyes, so shiny and wet, hold so much fear. If he hurt her, I will—
Realizing she’s waiting for my reply, I nod once, unable to find a calm response.
“This.” With bloodless fingers, she drops a folded copy of one of this morning’s broadsheets to my lap. The headline reads something about the current government’s taxation policy, which can’t be it. My fingers still as I flip over the heavily creased newspaper to find a familiar face staring back at me. A face that wasn’t smiling the last time I’d seen it.
“This is …” I don’t want to say his name, not out of superstition, but more like I refuse to poison the space between us.
“Giles.” She swallows. “Niko.” Her hand reaches out, her fingers tighten over mine. “He told me Sandy killed him.”
27
Van
“Sandy?” Relief. Fuck, relief is sweet. So sweet I almost laugh. But for her pained expression, I might. Where the hell did Aslanov get this idea from?
Isla nods, pushing her hair behind her ears, this morning’s chic business chignon now falling around her face.
“Why?” Fuck if I can even guess.
“Because of what Giles did to me. What he almost did. Don’t you remember how angry Sandy was the day after his birthday party?”
“Yes, but as far as I was aware, he never set eyes on the man again.”
“He’s hardly going to admit to murder, Niko.”
“I think he might’ve admitted it to me.” He would’ve needed help with the cleanup, at least. But, as it was, I’d gotten to the weasel first. I dragged him out of his flat for Alexander. After all, it was his right to punish him, not mine.
But, the best laid plans…
“He said he was going to break his legs. I heard him say it back then. Repeatedly!”
“Most of London heard him. Wasn’t that why he was never seen again? Because he was scared of the repercussions?”