Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
If I could look into his ice-blue eyes right now, I’d bet my life they’re murderous.
Good.
“You’ll draw them out,” he begins. “Then step aside to let me handle it from there.”
I snort. “Nice try. We’ve been over this, Aleksandr.”
We have, over, and over, and over again.
"I know that you would avenge me, but it doesn't mean that I'm alright with you taking that away from me. This is my revenge.”
"You've never killed anyone," he says. "You don't know what it's like taking the life of another person. And yes, while vengeance definitely is behind this, and I wanted you to learn to shoot so that you could get your own revenge? I still don't want you to have the weight of the responsibility of knowing that you ended somebody's life, no matter how much they deserved it."
I look out the window. "And maybe that's how I want to learn. Maybe this is how I want to have that first kill, knowing it’s justified. If I’m skilled at shooting, what’s even the point of it all?”
I don't believe the words even as I'm saying them, but I don't want my autonomy stripped from me.
"Harper," he says in a harsh whisper. "You're so fucking stubborn."
"So are you!"
He clenches his jaw. "I swear to God, if we weren't on a timeline, I would pull this car over and put you over my knee just to remind you who the fuck I am."
"And then I would seduce you, lying down out there and giving you a blowjob, then swallowing every fucking drop so that you know who I am."
My heart is beating at crazy tempo, but I'm not angry. Not at all. Neither is he, if the tent in his pants is an indication. He's fucking turned on. Because…this is who we are. We spar with each other, but in the end, we come back together. Because the two of us together are fire and neither of us ever wants to douse the other.
"Honestly, I have to say right now that I think it's good we don't have a specific plan. These are messy situations, and I've seen how it happens. We could have a perfectly orchestrated plan, but if we don't have a backup…”
"I'm going to let you have this, Harper. Because it isn't mine to take. And I want you to know that the only reason why I want to is because I love you. You're so fucking badass and a fucking genius with a gun. You've put up with so much. And I admire you for that, don't you know that?"
I widen my eyes. I will not cry. I will not cry. My eye makeup is fucking killer!
I swallow the lump in my throat and reach for his hand. His big, thick, warm hand in mine makes me feel reassured.
“That means a lot to me. Because you're fierce, too."
He snorts. "Of course I am. I could never handle a wallflower. Someone passive. I need someone to fight me." He gives me a sidelong glance, and the way his lips curl tells me he's thinking of doing wicked things to me. "I need someone who's gonna make me chase them.”
"Of course," I say seductively. "Where’s the fun with someone that just rolls over?"
I do a quick mental tally of what I have for shoes in the car.
Goddamn heels. I won’t run for the hell of it, but a girl needs to be prepared.
There's time.
When we arrive, I'm a little stunned. The stars in the night sky twinkle, but they seem muted compared to the absolute glimmering elegance in front of us. Just because I helped Polina and Ekaterina put details down on paper doesn't mean that I would actually know what it would be like to see it all unfold. White fairy lights around every window and fixture. Staff dressed in crisp, white uniforms, standing at attention like soldiers. The cars that pull up are some of the most majestic luxury vehicles I’ve ever seen in my life. They glide, as if transported there by magic. And the dresses, it’s like these guests stepped right off a runway.
Ten-year-old me would be in her utter glory right now — the click of heels, the swish of dresses, the deep voices mingling with higher-pitched ones, the diamonds and pearls. It's luxury and its finest on full display. As well it should be. Because I happen to know for a fact that this gala tonight is actually getting everyone together to spend money on some expensive artwork.
"Mikhail was the ostensible host of the last one," Aleks says, turning to me and lifting my fingers. He kisses the top of my hand. "And we are the hosts of this one, my lady."
My stomach plummets. "Is that right? So you take turns then? Why did nobody tell me this before?"