Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70826 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 354(@200wpm)___ 283(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Chapter 15
Max
This is not a good idea.
The thought means shit as I switch off the light and lie down beside Cami.
Tonight, shit got real. Rage simmers in my chest because those fuckers actually tried to kill her.
Over my dead body, will I allow anyone to touch her.
Seeing Cami’s terror and having her in such a dangerous situation makes my rage grow.
I let out a sigh then answer the question about the tattoo. “A tree symbolizes strength, and the roots are to remind me where I come from. The leaves blowing into the sky show there are no limits to what can be achieved.” I keep quiet for a few seconds, then add, “Anja is my sister's name.”
“The tattoo suits you.”
Silence falls between us again, and minutes pass before she asks, “Remember when you told my father to send the photo to St. Monarch’s?”
“Yeah?”
“What’s St. Monarch’s?”
I think of how to describe the place. “It’s an old castle that belongs to the retired head of the bratva.” I pause my explanation to ask, “Do you know what the bratva is?”
Cami turns around, so she’s facing me. “No. But I’m guessing it’s some kind of organization.”
“It’s the Russian form of the mafia,” I explain. Then I continue, “St. Monarch’s is neutral ground for anyone in the criminal world. It’s the one place where no killing is allowed. You can go for training to specialize in the field of your choice. The castle also has a resort, and weddings between rival families are sometimes held there to ensure no one dies.”
Her tone is soft as she asks, “Is that where you learned how to be an assassin?”
“Yes. They teach everything from weapons and fighting to hunting and eliminating a target.”
I’m surprised when she chuckles. “It sounds like Hogwarts for criminals.”
The corner of my mouth lifts. “Far from. They also handle every illegal contract and are more equipped than the FBI. St. Monarch’s is the heart of the criminal world.”
“There’s this whole other side of the world I never knew existed. It’s crazy,” she murmurs.
I turn my head, and we lock eyes. “Why doesn’t any of this freak you out?”
A smile tugs at her mouth. “Will it help if I freak out?” Before I can answer, she adds, “I think it’s because I got to know you a little before the bomb was dropped. I know I can trust you, making it a little less daunting.”
I glance up at the ceiling as her words fill my chest with more warmth.
“Good night, Max,” she whispers.
“Night.”
We lie in silence for a while, but she doesn’t fall asleep. She might not have freaked out, but the events of the night must’ve rattled the hell out of her.
“Come here,” I order, my tone softer than usual.
Cami sits up and pauses before hesitantly inching closer to me. I hold my arm open for her, and when her head rests on my shoulder, I pull her closer.
I listen to her breaths as her body relaxes against my side, then her frozen foot touches my ankle.
“Christ, you’re cold.”
“Cold feet, warm heart,” she mutters. “You’re warm, which explains your cold heart.”
I let out a chuckle. “That’s the biggest load of shit I’ve ever heard.”
Cami relaxes even more and lets her arm rest across my abs. My muscles tense from the innocent touch.
“Is this okay?” she asks.
No. Not by a long shot.
“Yeah,” I reply. “Sleep, Cami.”
She lets out a content sigh and fucking snuggles into my side.
You’re just offering her some comfort.
Sleep.
I listen as her breaths even out, and knowing she’s finally asleep, I lower my head and press my mouth to her hair.
It takes a while before I drift off into a dreamless sleep, and when I wake up, the sun is just breaking over the horizon.
I stare at the ceiling, my left arm dead from Cami lying on it, but I don’t dare move a muscle because I don’t want to wake her.
Christ, I’m willing to sacrifice the blood flow to my arm just to feel her body pressed to mine.
The room grows lighter as time passes, and when Cami wakes up with a groan, stretching her body against my side, her arm tightens around my waist as if I’m her personal teddy bear.
A possessive emotion floods my chest, and she chips away at another piece of ice around my heart.
She’s just a job.
I shake my head at the thought.
She stopped being a job when I hugged her in the pantry.
“Oh God,” she groans as she lifts her head. “I’m all over you.” She rolls onto her back and stretches again. “Sorry.”
My eyes lock on her hard nipples pressing against the fabric of her T-shirt, and I shoot up and off the bed in a single move.
Leaving the room, I head straight to the bathroom and shut the door behind me before I look down at my cock tenting in my boxers.