Terrible Beauty (Molotov Betrothal #1) Read Online Anna Zaires

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Dark, Mafia, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors: Series: Molotov Betrothal Series by Anna Zaires
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Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68931 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 345(@200wpm)___ 276(@250wpm)___ 230(@300wpm)
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What have I done? How could I have allowed him to do this to me?

I lick my swollen lips and taste the faint hint of cinnamon. Realizing I’m still clutching at his shoulders, I let go and plaster my palms against the wall, needing to feel something solid in a world that’s wobbling on its axis.

Alexei kissed me, and I didn’t stop him.

He made me come, right here in this empty ballroom.

The enormity of it is too much to process. All I know is that I failed his test in the worst, most mortifying way possible. And he knows it too.

Victory shines in his coal-dark eyes as he runs the pad of his thumb over the edges of my lips and says gently, “You might want to fix your lipstick before we go back out there, Alinyonok. All eyes will be on us as we make the announcement. Later tonight, we can resume this.”

He pushes off the wall and steps back, freeing me from the cage of his body, and a surge of panic chases away my mortification as the meaning of his words filters into my brain.

The engagement.

He plans to announce it right now… and then take me to bed.

My life as I know it ends tonight.

“Wait!” I call as he turns toward the door. I’m shaking even harder now, so overwhelmed by what has just occurred that it’s all I can do not to break down crying. “Alexei, please, wait.”

He turns back to face me, his eyebrows arched sardonically, and I know there’s nothing I can say to convince him to stop, to make him believe that I don’t want this. He gave me a chance, and I blew it.

I threw away my freedom for a kiss and an orgasm.

“Well?” He glances at his watch. “The music has already stopped, and the guests are gathering by the stage to hear a big announcement. We shouldn’t make them wait too long.”

“Alexei, please.” Pushing off the wall, I stagger toward him on unsteady legs. My temples throb agonizingly as the headache I’ve suppressed returns with sudden violence, adding to the turmoil within me. My stomach churns with nausea as I say urgently, “Please, can’t we just talk about it? I’m starting college in a few weeks. In New York City. I—”

“I know.” His jaw flexes as I stop in front of him. “We do need to talk about that, but not right now. Either way—”

“Please.” I grip his hand with both of mine, my desperation growing by the second. Either way, he said. Meaning that I might not be able to go to Columbia. Meaning that from this moment on, he expects to make all the decisions for me.

Like a horror movie reel, scenes from my parents’ marriage flash through my mind, only instead of my mom’s face, I see mine. And instead of my father, I see Alexei. I see him ruling my life with threats and blackmail, all the while manipulating my body and my emotions with the unholy attraction that he’s already used against me tonight. I see an endless parade of parties and networking events where I’m expected to look beautiful and smile, even as everything that I am withers and dies inside. I see our children growing up with the bitter knowledge that their parents hate each other and passing on that hate to future generations, perpetuating the awful cycle.

I see it all, and a sob rips from my throat as the tears I’ve been trying to hold back spill over, streaking down my cheeks in hot rivulets. His face blurs in my vision, the hammers pounding harder at my skull, and I clap both hands over my mouth as my nausea abruptly intensifies. Only it doesn’t help.

All I have time to do is lurch a few feet to the side before I fall onto my hands and knees and expunge the contents of my stomach onto the gleaming marble of the floor.

If I thought I was mortified before, it’s nothing compared to the way I feel as strong hands clasp my shoulders, stabilizing me as more heaves rack my shaking body. “That’s right. Get it all out,” Alexei murmurs, smoothing back a few hairs that have escaped my updo to cling to my clammy forehead. “You’ll feel better soon.”

No, I won’t. How could I, when he’s seen me be utterly disgusting? Somewhere in the back of my mind, I’m aware that the likely culprit for this is the pills—either alone or in combination with the headache that’s making me feel like my brain is imploding—but that doesn’t help. I don’t even have a napkin to wipe my mouth. Moaning in pain and embarrassment, I try to crawl away from the scene of my crime, but Alexei pulls me to my feet and lifts me against his chest.


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