Total pages in book: 81
Estimated words: 78827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78827 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 394(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
We all pile into an SUV, then the tires screech as Craig drives us away from the tarmac. Elias turns in the passenger seat, handing James a gun.
Even though I doubt the Sicilians managed to follow us halfway around the world, the ride is super tense, hardening the knot in my stomach.
God, it feels like I swallowed hot coals, and they’re trying to burn their way through my insides.
It’s not long before the SUV races through impressive iron gates, and then my lips part at the sight of the castle.
If I wasn’t drowning in grief and worry, I’d be able to admire the impressive grounds of St. Monarch’s.
Elias and Craig hurry us inside, where we’re stopped, and our guards are relieved of all their weapons.
A man dressed in a black combat uniform addresses us. “Mr. Koslov’s been waiting for your arrival. Please follow me.”
The interior’s luxurious, and even though there’s some history hidden in the battles of old decorating the walls and ceilings, everything feels new.
We’re led down a hallway, my eyebrows rising when we stop in front of a solid steel door. It looks like a vault. The man opens it, and we follow Craig into an office. Cabinets with weapons line the walls, and there’s a heavy oak desk at the back of the room.
Another man with dark eyes and short black hair waits in the middle of the room, his face unsmiling and quite intimidating.
“Welcome to St. Monarch’s,” he says, a Russian accent lacing his words. “I’m Carson Koslov, your host.”
There’s something dangerous in his demeanor, and remembering who I am, I lift my chin and step forward. “I’m Theresa Stathoulis.” I quickly introduce my group, then finish with, “Thank you for having us.”
Carson nods, then his features soften as his eyes fall on someone behind us. “My wife,” he gestures in the direction of the door, “Hayley will escort you to your suites. We only have one rule on the grounds – no killing.”
Wow, did that really need to be said?
I turn around and find Hayley’s totally the opposite of Carson. She’s beautiful, a friendly smile on her face. “Welcome.” She steps closer, then says, “I was told James is wounded?”
I place a hand on James’ back. “Yes. He’s had surgery, though.”
Hayley nods. “While I show the rest of you to your suites, we’d like to see James in the infirmary. Mr. Stathoulis has demanded that he receives the best care.”
Relief trickles through me, and I give James a nudge. “Let them take a look at your wound.”
Hayley shows James where to go, and as the rest of us follow her down a hallway, I pull my phone out and dial Nikolas’ number again. The last time I heard from him was when he sent me a text two hours after we left Vancouver.
When it just rings, my heart sinks to my stomach.
“No answer?” Athina asks.
As I shake my head, we hear Basil shout, “Athina, sweetheart!”
“Basil!” She breaks out into a run, and when I watch her leap into her husband’s arms, who must’ve flown from Athens to meet us here, I have to stop and breathe through the worry for my own man.
Please, Nikolas.
You promised.
Chapter 43
Nikolas
(Shortly after Tess left…)
When the elevator doors open and Luca, Viktor, Liam, and Gabriel step into the penthouse, there’s a surge of energy in my veins.
The rest of the Priesthood has arrived.
Viktor comes to hug me, and even though it feels awkward as fuck, I accept it.
“I’m sorry for your loss,” he mutters before pulling back, anger brimming in his voice.
“Thank you,” I automatically respond. Even though violence is expected in the lives we’ve chosen for ourselves, it still hits like a motherfucking bitch whenever we lose a loved one. Going after the elderly, women, and children isn’t condoned. You take out soldiers, men who can fucking fight.
Luca jabs his thumb over his shoulder. “We brought extra men.”
I start to nod when the elevator opens again. Emotion hits hard when I see Lucian, Luca’s father, stepping into the penthouse with Alexei Koslov and Demitri Vetrov, Viktor’s uncle and father – aka the best killers our world has ever produced.
Lucian comes to stand in front of me, and placing his hand on my shoulder, he says, “I respected your father, Nikolas. We’re here to honor our alliance.”
Jesus.
Clenching my jaw, wishing my father was here to witness this moment, I reply, “Thank you, Mr. Cotroni.”
“Let’s drink, then we kill some motherfuckers,” Alexei chuckles darkly as he makes his way to my liquor cabinet.
Slowly, the corners of my mouth lift.
There’s no way Manno will survive this attack.
“I’ve been keeping a close eye on Manno’s house in Toronto,” Viktor says. “There’s been no movement. The last person entering the house was the nephew, Ricco.” His eyes lock with mine. “I think they’re hunkering down after attacking you.”