Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92254 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 308(@300wpm)
I glare down at my feet and start walking past. I make it halfway to the stairs when I hear a voice.
“Lena.”
My toes go numb. My lips quiver, and I stop moving. This can’t be happening. Please, just let me off the hook for once in my life. Slowly, I turn around.
Arsen’s leaning against his doorjamb and watches me with a hard expression.
Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
He found me, and now I’m done.
“We need to talk,” he says and gestures with his chin. “Come inside.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. He disappears into his apartment and leaves that traitor bastard door standing wide open again.
Beckoning me.
I could run. I could take off, hop on a train, and disappear. Maybe that might even save my life.
But it wouldn’t save Mom or Dad or Vadim.
Now I know how Saro felt with those guns aimed at his head.
I shuffle after Arsen, forcing myself to take each step.
Marching to my own execution.
Chapter 7
Arsen
Everything went great.
The information we got about Saro was dead on. It didn’t take long before he made a little trip to his favorite club, and from there it was as simple as catching him in the alley out back.
He was the last loose end. With him gone, my family’s civil war would be down to only two factions: my people and Uncle Garen.
I thought we’d pulled it off until Lena showed her face.
That stupid fucking girl. I’m still angry thinking about it. What went through her head? Why would she stay around and watch when it was obvious what was going on?
Then she was dumb enough to get caught.
I’m so fucking frustrated when she walks into my safe house. The place is cleaned up and put back together, no more cash on the floor, no more ripped to shreds mattress. I even had the audacity to add some paintings on the walls. A bunch of overpriced bullshit.
I wanted to make the place feel more like a home.
In case she ever came over again.
Which is dumb, in retrospect.
Lena’s trembling as she faces me in the living room. I glare at her, trying to decide what the hell I’m going to do. “Sit down,” I tell her.
She doesn’t. “I didn’t see anything,” she blurts out.
“That’s pretty much the exact wrong thing to say.”
“But it’s true. I mean, maybe not literally but whatever happened out there had nothing to do with me. I didn’t mean to—”
I hold up a hand and she stops chattering at me. It’s obvious she’s terrified, and I can’t blame her.
I haven’t decided whether I’m going to kill her or not.
Tigran would’ve done it already. If I hadn’t talked him out of hunting the girl down at the club, she’d be a corpse sinking alongside Saro in the harbor. Instead, I told my brother that I’d take care of this myself.
He was skeptical, but he trusts me.
I have the whole family to think about.
Frustration burns in my guts. I march into the kitchen and pour two drinks. I throw mine back and offer her the other.
“It’ll just make me more nervous,” she says, shifting between her feet.
I have hers too then. I’m not about to force the girl to drink if she doesn’t want to. Although I don’t know why I care.
I’m going to kill her.
It’s the only logical option here. She witnessed me and Tigran murder Saro. If she talks to the police and they decide to press charges, her story’s going to hold up. That would cause me a lot of fucking problems.
I’m the patron. I don’t get the luxury of caring whether some girl lives or dies. The future of the Brotherhood is bigger than me, than anyone, and I have to put the well-being of the organization before my personal feelings.
She’s nothing. Just some good pussy. That’s all.
Except when she looks at me with those big eyes of hers, all I want to do is walk over there, grab her by the hair, and dominate her mouth with mine.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
I should’ve killed her already. It’d be so easy. Break her neck, wrap her body in plastic, and carry her down into my car. She’d be gone, problem solved, Brotherhood protected.
“You’re going to work,” I say instead of strangling her to death.
She nods awkwardly. “That was the plan.”
“Even though you watched a man die there yesterday?”
“I can’t take time off.”
“Why not?”
“My mom’s sick. We really need the money.”
Sympathy echoes in my dark, cavernous heart. “How sick?”
“Cancer.”
I grunt and pour a third drink. She turns it down again. “Sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks.” She watches me take a long sip, savoring the burn this time. “Are you going to kill me?”
“I haven’t decided.”
“That’s not very comforting.”
“I’m not trying to comfort you right now, little thief.” I rub my forehead, skull pounding. “Why’d you come outside?”
“There was an open door.” She says it like that explains everything.