Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
“Alright, I’ll reluctantly give you that point,” I say with a huff. “But leggings are hard to fuck up.”
“That’s not what Polina says.”
I reach for a top when he smacks my hand away. I pull back as if bitten, my jaw unhinged.
“What’d I say? I told you I’m picking them out. Behave yourself.”
I open my mouth to protest, but instead, that isn’t what comes out. “Who’s Polina again?”
Am I jealous?
“My sister. She’s particular about things like leggings. She went on a rant about it a few weeks ago.” He chooses a dark, brick-colored fitted blouse for me to pair with the leggings. It’s sleek with long sleeves and would almost be conservative if not for the deep vee that accentuates my bust. The fabric is thick but has a hint of stretch.
I slide into the top and turn this way and that, checking myself out. “Damn, I look hot. Like, CEO-of-kickass hot.”
Wow.
Viktor nods, his eyes still intense and on fire. Approving. “This will do.”
“It better. We’re getting more of these.” I watch his reaction.
“I’ll be the judge of that. You can submit your requests, but I’ll handle procurement.”
I scoff, hands on hips, as his phone rings. It reminds me that Timur tossed my phone out the fucking window, and I need a new one. Why’d he do that?
He quirks a brow at me. “You can put in some requests, but I get the final say.”
“What is this, the 1920s? Should I light up a Pall Mall and wear some heels? Sir?”
Viktor takes a step closer to me in the small interior of the dressing room. Though it’s roomier than most I’ve seen, he’s the size of a bear, and I’m no pixie, so there’s not exactly wiggle room.
“We’ll skip the cigarette, but heels? Yeah. I’ll add those to the list.” He leans in and whispers in my ear. “You can wear just those heels and repeat that sir.”
Gawwd.
He glances at his watch. “But not now. We need to go. Wear the clothes out.” Leaning over, he plucks the tags off and answers his phone. “We’re on our way.”
CHAPTER NINE
Nine years ago
Viktor
“He doesn't know his own strength, Stanislav,” my mother said, her voice trembling as she held both hands up in front of her. “Listen to me. He doesn't know his own strength.”
My father was in pajama bottoms, his robe cinched around his waist. All he needed was a pipe to complete the look. This was a man who had been dragged from his sleep to meet the police. One more year. All I needed was one more year, and I'd be a legal adult. The second I was, I’d be gone.
The flashing lights faded away.
“He’s always used that excuse,” my father sneered. “He's known his strength for years.”
“It's not an excuse!” my mother pleaded. “Listen to me!”
I was sitting on a chair, staring at the blank wall of the fireplace. We never lit a fire in it because my father didn’t like it. I wanted to think he didn't like warmth either. My father's eyes locked onto mine, his neck veins bulging as he clenched his fists by his side. He wanted to hurt me, but the last time he did, I deflected his blows.
Now he was wary.
Instead, he’d bait me. He looked at me, his eyes filled with disdain. “What was it now? Someone interrupted you when you were talking? Someone took your parking space? Someone kissed a girl you liked?”
I clenched my fists and remained silent. He was baiting me. He knew I wasn’t petty with my violence. The truth was, he used me when it suited him, justifying his own brutal methods. I was his secret weapon.
I didn’t respond because that’s what he wanted—a fight. If he could get a rise out of me, he could hit me. It was easy to justify punishment when I reacted. It was harder when I stayed silent. I looked away from him, my eyes resting on the cold fireplace.
“Stanislav,” my mother said, her voice pleading.
“Answer me!” my father roared. His footsteps thundered closer. My brothers, Mikhail and Nikko, had heard what was going on. I could see them hiding on the stairway, ready to defend. My heart swelled in my chest. They were prepared to defend me if necessary, but we all knew how complicated things got when we defended each other over something trivial. Still, they had my back.
But I didn't need them. I was completely at peace with what I did today.
I took revenge on the teenage boys who hurt Lydia. I had absolutely no regrets. The person who started it was only the first on my list. The news had already spread, whispers circulating among the teenagers at school and even rumors at the local church.
Some called me a demon, others an angel of vengeance, a harbinger of justice. I embraced it. I would eliminate evil.