Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 71200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71200 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 356(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 237(@300wpm)
What does that mean for me?
Once I’m alone, and my anger slowly fades, it’s replaced with a helplessness I’ve never experienced before.
Rustik was bad, but at least I knew what I was getting into with him.
Liam’s totally different.
I have no clue what that man’s thinking. Cold one second, burning hot the next.
It’s like he’s doing this on purpose, trying to keep me off balance.
But I know one thing: no matter what, I’m not giving up on Liliya. I’m not letting go of my revenge, even if Liam’s talking like he’s going to keep me forever.
I only have to figure out how I’ll convince Liam to let me help.
Chapter 24
Liam
I step out of my empty bedroom wearing my normal business suit. It’s barely past five in the morning. Alisa tends to sleep past eight. I move downstairs quietly and head toward the kitchen. Orin will have some coffee and toast ready for me, then I’ll take my car to the office—
“Good morning, husband. What time do you usually head out?”
I stop in the kitchen door and stare.
Alisa’s sitting at the island. She’s in a black pantsuit and black heels, her legs crossed, coffee and cereal in front of her. A paper’s open and halfway folded to the business section.
I look over at Orin, who shrugs helplessly.
“I’m leaving shortly.” I walk to the island and accept my breakfast. Usually, I’d eat in the car. Instead, I stare at my wife.
She puts down the paper. “Good. I’m ready when you are.”
“I think you might be confused. Did our conversation last night give you the impression that you’d be joining me today?”
“No,” she says, snapping the paper. “But I decided that you need my help.”
I take that in. I see what she’s doing, and I don’t like it. “You aren’t needed today.”
“That’s the wrong answer, buddy.” She hops to her feet. “I’m coming with you to the office.”
“Alisa—”
“You want me to be safe, right? You can protect me yourself if you let me tag along. What’s safer than right next to you?”
I work my jaw. “Here, in this secure house, surrounded by a dozen men. That’s much safer. I’m a target.”
“And I am too, especially when I repeatedly try to escape.”
“You wouldn’t be so self-destructive.”
“I will,” she says, giving me a seductive smile. I should be pissed, but I like this aspect of her. This stubborn, confident side, the businesswoman, the take-no-bullshit, kill-all-enemies warrior. “Unless you let me come and work by your side, I’ll make it so that you have no other choice. I’m pregnant with your child, so I doubt you’ll lock me up in some basement dungeon.”
I cock my head. “Are you sure I wouldn’t?”
She glances at Orin and clears her throat. “Yes. I am.”
I let the silence fill the room. I let her picture all manner of uncomfortable positions I could force her into. Chains, shackles, ropes, bars on the windows, big metal steel doors—
But she’s right.
I wouldn’t do any of that to my pregnant wife.
There are ways I could punish her that wouldn’t endanger the baby—but none of those ways are a powerful deterrent.
It’s an unfortunate position. She’s right that it will be bad if she keeps trying to escape. It’ll draw unwanted attention to the house, and she might actually succeed one of these days. I don’t know how closely her father and Rustik are watching this place, and I don’t want to find out.
My main goal, from here until forever, is to keep her safe and take care of our child.
Which includes winning this war as quickly and as bloodlessly as possible.
“There has been violence.” I let the words slide from my tongue. Her eyes widen. “I haven’t told you. I’ve shielded you from the worst of it. But Rustik did not stop with Corgan.”
“It doesn’t matter.” She’s talking too fast. I don’t believe her at all.
“But it does. You think he’d spare you? He’d revel in killing my wife.”
“He’d kill me here, or right out front, or down the block. I’ll give him the chance, too.”
I try not to smile. I believe she really would.
It’s foolish, of course.
She’s threatening to risk her own life, and for what?
But it’s also what I admire about her.
She has one single weapon to use against me, and that’s the baby.
“There are dead on both sides now,” I say, trying to scare sense into her with the truth. “Grudges are forming. There will be more blood. Do you really want to be a part of that?”
“I can help.” She doesn’t sound so sure anymore. For all her bluster, Alisa is not a killer. “I helped run my father’s business for years. Let me help you now. Let me be useful, Liam. Please.”
It’s a strong pitch.
And I know she could help, genuinely help. I’ve been avoiding using her to this point, mainly because I don’t want to incriminate her now that serious violence is brewing.