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)
“This isn’t them,” Yev assures while yanking a seat belt over Ana while I hold her in place. “They were happy to wait on the agreement of an interest increase.”
“Then who the fuck is it?”
When Yev shrugs, as clueless as me, I yank on Ana’s seat belt so fiercely, it reacts as if she was in an accident. It pins her to her seat better than my hand splayed across her chest.
Its tight hold doesn’t alter her stubbornness, though. Her hands race for the latch in a nanosecond, only slowing when I bark out, “You even attempt to touch the fucking latch and I will tan your ass so hard, having my name tattooed on your snatch will seem like a walk in the park.”
Yev looks shocked by my comment, proving he’s never come close to seeing my initials on Ana’s inner thigh, but before he can say a thing, Ana murmurs on a sob, “He’s my dad. I can’t lose him.”
“You won’t.” When my words offer her little assurance, I dip down low and grab her face in my hands. “I promise you, драгоценный, I will get him out.” As I wipe away the tears streaming down her beautiful face, I murmur, “But I need to know that you are safe and far from danger. I need you protected like you were when I let you walk away. I won’t let anyone hurt you, драгоценный. Not even me.”
That’s why I left her in Italy. I knew bringing her home would hurt her more, so I let her stay.
“Promise me again,” she begs on a whimper, aware I’ll lose my life before I would break a promise to her.
“I promise, драгоценный.” I press my mouth to her lips before talking over them. “You have my word.”
13
ANASTASIA
I’ve been sick to my stomach for the past several hours. Yev didn’t know where to take me after we left Alek on the sidewalk of my building, yanking a gun out of the back of his jeans, so he brought me to the one place I’ve always felt safe.
He brought me home.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to clean that up?” Yev asks as his eyes scan the dishware Alek removed in a hurry so he could eat my backside with the ferocity of a caveman.
I’d never done anything before Alek. I was all talk and no action. It wasn’t that I lacked opportunity. It was that I never trusted anyone. A kiss could turn into a blowjob, a blowjob into an engagement then vows full of lies.
I didn’t want that. I didn’t want my parents’ life, and for years, I thought I had succeeded in their failed endeavor to find their better half.
Alek was older and more mature, but he understood my worries and never pressured me to give up my dreams so he could live his.
I was nineteen with a catering company, for crying out loud. He wanted me to have the world, but he also comprehended that I needed to achieve it for myself. I would never have accepted it if he had simply handed it to me on a silver platter. My hands needed to get dirty, but if I had any inkling they’d get this stained trying to clean up my father’s mess by myself, I would have reached out for help sooner.
I am stubborn to a fault, and the knot in my stomach announces this the loudest of them all.
When Yev arches a brow, soundlessly requesting an answer, I remember he asked a question. “No. It’s fine. I’ll get it.”
I’ve only just bobbed down to pick up a fork when a loud bang sounds through my apartment. It came from the front door.
“Go into your room,” Yev demands while removing a pistol from a holster I didn’t realize he was hiding under his bomber jacket until now.
I want to fight, but considering my heart hasn’t established a normal rhythm since Alek ate my pussy on a random mob boss’s desk, I move for the large pillar that once separated the apartments on our floor into multiple studios without a protest seeping from my lips.
“Dad,” I murmur on a relieved breath when he stumbles into my old apartment a second after Yev opens the door. He’s battered and bruised, and his eye is nearly swollen shut, but mercifully, he is without life-threatening injuries. “Where’s Alek?” I ask while guiding him to a chair in the living room.
“He’s… ah… he’s…” I accept the bottle of water Yev is holding out for me before shakily opening the cap and handing it to my father, hopeful as hell some moisture will alleviate his dry throat and loosen up his words. “He’s… still there.”
“At our apartment?”
He shakes his head, doubling my worry. He’s so thin, his bones rattle when he moves too quickly.