Total pages in book: 158
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 144908 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 725(@200wpm)___ 580(@250wpm)___ 483(@300wpm)
“Do you really think I’m going to just turn Ambrielle over to you so easily, Yuri? You can go back to your boss and tell him I have no reason to give him such a prize. She’s worth millions. He’d better make me an offer that makes sense. I’m well aware of who he is and what he does. My club wants in on his business. He gives us a cut, we give him his bride.”
Ambrielle went very still. She had never even considered that she might be used as a bargaining chip to give Torpedo Ink a cut into Walker Thompson’s business. She knew he owned casinos with his father, but he had illegal businesses as well. She had no idea what they were, but they had to be lucrative.
Her gaze fixed on Master’s face. She knew every line. Every scar. The cut of his mouth. The way his eyes crinkled around the corners. Her mother had always told her she would know when the right man came to her. It was a family gift, handed down through her mother’s line, and she had known. She hadn’t just known with her body—and the chemistry between them was astounding—she’d known with her soul. No way was she going to believe he was selling her out. She believed in him. In herself. In the two of them.
“I’m not here to negotiate a deal with you, asshole,” Yuri snapped.
“You mean you have no authority. Call him. Tell Thompson the offer’s on the table.”
Ambrielle kept her gaze fixed on Master. Waiting. The other men around him waited for a signal from their leader. Destroyer would be coming after her once he disposed of the man who had attacked them. No doubt, that man hadn’t been alone.
“Kill the son of a bitch and let’s go in and take her,” a man in a red shirt snarled.
The leader regarded him with cool eyes. “Kuzma, if you try to kill him, I guarantee, you’ll be dead either by his hand or by the sniper who has you in his sights right now.”
“Her,” Master corrected. “Lana never misses. You all know her reputation. He didn’t tell you who you’d be dealing with, did he?”
“You’d still be dead,” Kuzma snapped.
Master shrugged. “You’re welcome to try. I came out here to talk in good faith. I even let your partner, Artem”—he indicated the man standing beside Kuzma in a dark blue jacket—“hit me. I warned you if any of you tried it again, I’d kill you or Lana would. I think that was fair. I’ve delivered my part. Call Thompson.”
Yuri pulled out his phone with a sigh and walked a few steps away from Master, toward Ambrielle. She went still, afraid even to blink. She kept her gaze on Master rather than Yuri, knowing if she stared at him, she might attract his attention. She had the feeling Master already knew she was there. He didn’t exactly look at her, but his fingers were on his chest over his heart, and he seemed to be tapping out a beat.
“Yeah, the club wants to make a deal. They’ll hand over the bitch for a cut. The club president is here, and he’ll negotiate. Yeah, we can do that, but I’m going to tell you, I know these men from way back. These aren’t men you ever want to fuck with. Better to get them on your side. No, I’m not afraid of them. I’m just letting you know what they’re like. Yeah, I can do that. We’ll get the president out here, kill him and kill the rest of them.” He ended the call, closed his eyes and shook his head as he sighed. “Fucking idiot,” he whispered aloud.
He paused, his back to Master and the others, lifting his hand to his mouth. “Take out the sniper. Do it now. We’re going to wipe them out.” He whispered the command and then turned around, walking back to where Master was still ringed by his men. “He’s willing to negotiate with your president, but only over the phone. You want to bring him out here? You want to do it inside? We got to get this over.”
Ambrielle was slightly shocked at how Yuri could sound annoyed, resigned and amicable at the same time. She realized he’d probably used a similar ruse many times, luring his victim into believing he was going to give them whatever they wanted before killing them.
“I suppose it’s best to go inside and talk to him there. Czar’s with his wife and a few friends. They’re having dinner.” Master had a note of caution in his voice. “Not all of them are Torpedo Ink.”
Blythe. Never in a million years would Master put Blythe in jeopardy. Not one member of Torpedo Ink would. Ambrielle saw the way they all treated her. She heard the note in Master’s voice when he said her name. Blythe was sacred. He would never allow these men near her. The tension hadn’t changed in Master. He appeared exactly the same as he’d been when he was seated, but she knew he was close to exploding into action.