Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96714 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 322(@300wpm)
Sitting in the back seat, I watch as Hubert sits behind the wheel.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked.
“Take me to my husband.” I don’t care where he is, but I need to talk to him. No, that’s wrong. I need to yell at him.
My hands clenched into fists. It’d been a long time since I felt this angry, but I needed that. I didn’t want to be a prisoner. I thought after getting married and swearing my loyalty to Ivan Volkov, all of this would be over and I’d be free. The fact I had more freedom with my father was a joke. That man had … I didn’t even want to think about it.
I didn’t know how long the journey took, but we arrived at some kind of casino. My anger had subsided, but I was still annoyed, only now it was mixed with sickness.
Hubert parked the car around the back, and before he’d even put on the hand brake, I climbed out and headed toward the entrance. Hubert caught up with me and placed a hand at the base of my back.
“Mrs. Yahontov, you must be careful.”
“My name’s Charlotte, or Lottie. Either of those will do just fine.” I didn’t feel like a Yahontov. I wasn’t a wife. A wife didn’t have to ask permission to go anywhere. They were not prisoners.
I notice Hubert tried to shield me as we stepped into the main casino, and he moved me toward the elevator.
“I’m not a child. You don’t have to hide the dangerous gambling from me.” I felt like a damn child with the way he treated me.
I was a full-grown woman. Okay, I was eighteen, and I knew that to many that made me a child, but I had never felt like a child. I’d never had childish experiences. Growing up afraid of making silly noises or attracting too much attention would do that to you, and that’s exactly what happened to me.
Again, I pushed those thoughts aside as Hubert clicked the button and the elevator moved up. I saw the lights change as we traveled toward the top floor. What was it about my husband and being at the top floor of everything? Was it a status thing? It was a good thing I wasn’t afraid of heights.
Stepping from the elevator, we passed several more guards, none of which I recognized. Then Hubert knocked on the door, and I heard Ive’s request for us to enter. The moment we entered Ive’s office, Hubert stepped out of my way, and I looked at my husband. He was sitting behind his desk, and he looked in complete control. He also didn’t look surprised to see us. Hubert had told him I was coming.
“Leave us,” Ive said.
My prison guard didn’t put up much of a fight. He stepped out of the office and closed the door. Where was my anger? I wanted it back. This would have been a hell of a lot easier with it.
“You wanted to see me, Charlotte,” he said.
He didn’t get up from behind his desk. He sat back in his chair, and I saw the band on his finger that declared him my husband.
“Am I a prisoner?” I asked.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
Ive smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
In the back of my mind, that old reliable voice that had been a waste of time against my father, tried to yell at me to stop being angry, to stop making stupid accusations, and to just calm down. I never ignored the voice back then, and I followed her advice. The beatings I got, the slaps, the pain—I should have totally ignored her.
Glaring at Ive, I folded my arms across my chest.
“I can’t go anywhere without Hubert asking you. I’m locked in that apartment and if it’s not at the apartment, it’s your home. There is no freedom. I’m your wife and I have sworn loyalty to Ivan Volkov but I’m still a prisoner. Why? Why marry me? Are you going to kill me? Is this some stupid messed up play to take out Rage? To take out the Evil Savages MC? Why not just do it? Why do this?”
My heart started to race, and I felt sick to my stomach. I wanted to stop but there was a pesky problem. I wanted answers a whole lot more.
Ive got up from his place behind the desk. He seemed a lot taller than I remembered, which was crazy, seeing as I just saw him last night. I stood next to him, and even last night, he’d kissed my cheek. I’d loved that, him kissing my cheek, which was so stupid.
Pressing my lips together, I looked at him and waited.
“You think Ivan Volkov and myself have time for these elaborate games?” Ive asked. “That we would arrange this marriage, pay all the unnecessary expense, to just kill you?”