Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80207 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Still feeling awful because of my crazy reaction yesterday, I say, “I’m really sorry I just ran off. I want you to know it’s nothing you did.”
“I understand.” Rosalie gives me a warm smile. “Let’s forget it happened.”
Still apprehensive because I don’t know her, I ask, “What work does your husband do?”
Without hesitating, she says, “He’s in the shipping business.”
“Do you work?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. I’m a full-time mommy.” Her eyes meet mine. “Do you own the bookstore?”
I nod. “Yeah, I love books, and it allows me to bring Vincent to work with me.”
Finally, having someone to talk to, I admit, “I feel guilty for not putting him in a daycare center. He doesn’t get to play with other children enough.”
She lets out a sigh. “I won’t place Roman in a daycare center either.” With a hopeful look, she says, “Maybe the boys can have play dates?”
Before I can think of what to answer, Vincent comes running toward me. “I’m thirsty, Mommy.”
I pull his juice box out of my bag and give it to him. “Drink it slowly.”
He sucks down half the juice, shoves the box back into my hand, and runs back to his friends.
“Is it weird that I can’t wait to experience Roman at that age, but at the same time, I don’t want him to grow up?” Rosalie asks.
“No, it’s not weird at all,” I chuckle.
“Are the terrible twos really as bad as people say?” she asks.
I shake my head. “Vincent is a blessing. It’s seldom he throws a tantrum.”
Rosalie sits with me for another ten minutes before she gets up. She hands me a piece of paper with her number on it. “I’ll understand if you don’t call. I just want you to have my number in case you change your mind and feel like hanging out.”
Taking the paper, I give her a sheepish grin. “I usually bring Vincent to the playground on Tuesday afternoons.”
A smile brightens her pretty face. “I’ll be here on Tuesday.”
I watch Rosalie walk to where a G-Wagon is parked before I turn my attention back to Vincent.
You don’t have to be best friends with her, but it won’t hurt to have someone to chat with once a week.
Chapter 24
Alek
After a shit night’s sleep in the foreign bed, I’m walking the perimeter of the estate to check for any vulnerable spots.
Every time I come across a guard, I stop to introduce myself.
I’m busy in the backyard when Luna, Viktor’s dog, comes trotting toward me.
“Hey, girl,” I whisper. I pat her head before continuing to check the wall.
“Are you taking over my job?” I hear Alexei call.
Turning around, I wait for him to catch up with me, then he says, “I take a walk around the estate every morning.”
“I’ll leave you be.”
He shakes his head and nods for us to walk. “We can check the perimeter together.”
Yesterday he said he wanted to spend some time together. Not knowing what to expect, my nerves twist in my stomach. The last thing I want to do is disappoint Alexei.
We walk for a while, then he orders, “Tell me about yourself.”
“Sir?” My gaze darts to him. “I’m sure you know everything about me.”
“I know you’re the second son of Vincent Aslanhov, that you were good during your training as an enforcer.” His sharp gaze flicks to me. “You got taken by Prodi. You lost your brother, the woman you love, and your mind. At St. Monarch’s, you were a hothead.”
That about sums up my life.
“Tell me who you really are, Alek,” he demands.
“I’m a bratva soldier,” I answer, because that's all I can be when everything’s said and done.
“Bullshit,” Alexei mutters. “Want to know what I see when I look at you?”
Not really.
He glances over the gardens, and I turn my attention to the boundary wall.
“I see a younger version of myself. Your father is a piece of shit, and I don’t blame you for wanting to kill him.”
My eyes shoot back to Alexei, surprise tensing my muscles.
Our eyes lock, and he says, “His days are numbered. He’s taken too many chances and fucked up more than is allowed.”
The news brings me a surge of satisfaction, but then I think of my mother.
“I can’t kill him because it will leave my mother alone in Russia.”
“I think she will be happier to be with her son,” he mentions.
I’m not a citizen of America, so I can’t bring her over to live with me. It’s something that’s worried me since I left her to do my training at St. Monarch’s.
“If life has taught me one thing, it’s that everything sorts itself out in the end,” Alexei murmurs. He places his hand on my shoulder and nods toward the main mansion.
The corner of my mouth lifts, and I admit, “It’s been a lifelong dream to meet you.”
He pats my cheek in a fatherly way. “Let’s go shoot some shit in the armory. You can show me how good you are.”