Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
It was doing well until Ana was diagnosed with hyperemesis gravidarum. She was so sick the first couple of months, she had no choice but to bring on additional help. They kind of overtook and stole Ana’s dreams out from underneath her.
Perhaps that’s why she lost some of the spark in her eyes?
Anastasia’s face stops screwing up in disgust when I ask, “Did you ever get back into catering?”
“No.” She peers out over the housing estate she will always class as home while clarifying, “Helena always said she was more than happy for me to cook, but she had a chef and a butler, so she didn’t need me.”
“Helena?”
“Tommaso’s wife,” she explains before realizing she said too much. “Anyway. Thanks for the ride, and the buy-in. I will deposit it into the Yurys account first thing Monday.” She opens her door and slips out like my mouth isn’t hanging open and my dick isn’t knocking at the zipper of my jeans.
Ana would never associate with a married man. Her mother cheated on her father, and her affair tore two families apart. She loathes adulterers. So much so, if you even mention having a wife at some stage in your life, she will cut you off in an instant.
When she shoots down the cracked sidewalk at a million miles an hour, I call her name, “драгоценный.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got it. It’s not that heavy,” she replies while lugging the bag full of cash into the foyer of her building.
“драгоценный.”
“We’ll chat soon.”
Before I can get out another word, she disappears up the stairwell.
“If you want to be chased, драгоценный. I’ll chase you.”
With my feet pounding the concrete as actively as my heart does my ribs, I reach Ana before she forces me to pay for a replacement lock. I catch her just outside her apartment door, and flatten her to the beaten wood like it is the first time I’ve used my height against her.
It isn’t, by the way.
“Explain. Now.”
“There’s nothing to explain.”
I push into her deeper, loving that I can feel the change in her pulse the closer I get to her. “You were on his yacht. Topless.”
I hear her gulp before I see it when she peers up at me. “I wasn’t… I’ve never… oh, shit.” She forcefully swallows again, then mutters, “There was a bee. It stung me. I didn’t know they couldn’t sting twice, so I panicked.” She breathes out slowly as if embarrassed. “Helena was out with the kids, and I didn’t know Tommaso had returned to the yacht.” As her eyes bounce between mine to gauge my response, she murmurs, “He offered to get out the stinger. I was covered the entire time, and he told Helena the instant she returned.” Her expression is one I’ve witnessed many times. “I thought she’d fire me on the spot, but she didn’t. She trusted him.” Her breathing shallows as she whispers, “As I should have you. I—”
We’re interrupted by a groan of a man in pain. It is closely followed by a stern voice. “She’s not here yet, but once she is, we’ll see just how far she’s willing to go to keep her daddy dearest safe.”
As Ana’s eyes pop, she whispers, “Dad.”
I curl my arm around her waist before she can burst through the front door of her apartment to announce to the shadows under the door that she’s home. There’s more than one set of heavy breaths projecting beneath the opening and half a dozen hushed murmurs.
“Let me go, Al—” I clamp my hand over her mouth before I continue dragging her down the stairwell, confident the Russian militants swamping her apartment’s minuscule floorspace are here for more than money.
You don’t go after a man’s daughter unless you’re convinced she can offer you something money can’t buy.
It is usually their bodies.
“Where the fuck are you, Yev?” I shout into the cool night air when our return to the sidewalk isn’t finalized with a flashy sports car skidding to a stop at the front of Ana’s building.
He’s meant to be watching Ana like he has the past seven years.
He’s meant to have her back when I can’t.
That’s what life brothers do.
“Thank fuck,” I murmur when Yev’s flashy ride zips down the street a second after I retighten my hold on Ana. She’s kicking, scratching, and biting in an endeavor to get free. She doesn’t realize not every mafia man is like me. They’ll hurt her to get what they want, and I’m going to fucking kill them for even considering using her as partial payment of her father’s debt.
“How many?” Yev asks while leaning across to throw open his door for Ana, who is still fighting to get free.
“Half a dozen at a minimum.” I force a thrashing and wailing Ana into the passenger seat before asking, “Yurys?”