Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91149 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Mischa watches me too closely, and I fear I’ve revealed myself. But when he leans in to whisper in my ear, it’s much worse than that. “It’s better you forget him now. In the end, it will save you pain. For tonight, you have me, and I promise you could do much worse with my brothers.”
Pressure weighs on my shoulders, and as if on cue, Viktor’s gaze moves to me. He asks Nikolai in Russian if the deed is done, and Nikolai assures him tonight.
Blue eyes collide with mine, but they won’t save me. Not tonight, and not ever.
“Mischa,” Viktor calls out. “Take the girl upstairs.”
Nakya’s face fractures under Viktor’s command, and I grow unnaturally still as Mischa drags her dead weight from the couch and up the stairs.
Red threatens my vision, and I desperately try to focus on Ana’s narrative about her end of year studies. The events of this evening are not happenstance. Mischa will take her while we dine, and I’ll be forced to endure the dinner without a show of emotion.
My best friend will be the one to ruin her.
Viktor’s methods are brutal but effective. It could be worse. I know it could be worse. But anyone who isn’t me is not an option. Even now, I can only think of how I will murder him when it’s over. But logically, it will still not change anything.
Nakya will never be able to look at me again. And that’s a murder of a different kind.
Viktor makes a toast, and I nod absently. I check my watch. It’s been two minutes. Ana won’t stop staring at me. She is desperate for my attention, and she should have it. There should be nothing else that exists outside her. She is the pakhan’s daughter.
Someone else approaches, and through my blurry vision, I make out Alexei’s face. He wasn’t invited, and even Viktor can’t seem to understand his sudden appearance.
“Lyoshenka. What are you doing here?”
“I’ve been assisting Nika with the acquisition of the piece you requested, and I’m aware this is not an ideal time, but a time-sensitive lead has just come through. Would you mind if I steal him away for a short while?”
It’s a lie, and it’s not well executed. Alexei is referring to the Rembrandt. Something he knows Viktor won’t say no to. Though I’m not certain he ever denies Alexei of anything he requests.
“Business is business,” Viktor says. “Ana understands that it always comes first. I will have a drink with Franco while we wait.”
Alexei nods, and I follow him wordlessly as he leads me upstairs. He is here for a reason, but whatever it may be, it’s not my primary concern right now. My concern is the closed door of Nakya’s room. The one where Mischa will take her and make her his before I rip his throat out for obeying orders.
Alexei turns to me, and I’m aware he requires my attention, but I can only focus on the door, listening for the slightest of sounds.
“Don’t you want to know why I’m here?” Alexei asks.
“You mean besides instilling hope that I will find Viktor’s impossible Rembrandt?”
“I heard of Viktor’s intentions this evening,” he answers. “And I know what you’re doing with the Valentini girl. I know your motivations for taking her, and why you requested those files from me.”
I drag my attention to him, determined to uncover the purpose of his statement.
“You want the truth about your mother,” he says. “And I can assist you. But I will not allow you to punish an innocent girl for the sins of her father.”
My awareness drifts back to the door. I still can’t hear anything, and I know if I breach that barrier, it will ruin everything I have worked for. If Viktor discovers that I’ve interfered with his orders, he will have my head. But I also know that I can’t stop myself.
“Go,” Alexei tells me. “I’ll wait in the office.”
He isn’t doing it for me. He doesn’t believe me capable of anything selfless, and perhaps he is right. I watched without protest as Mischa brought Nakya up here with one intention. But my intentions have changed when I turn the knob to find him holding my sobbing, broken doll. She is hyperventilating in his arms while he attempts to comfort her. But even worse, she is naked.
My eyes cut through Mischa. He is clothed, and he has not yet taken her, but it makes no difference. I’m out for blood when I snatch him by the collar and drag him from the bed. My fist crashes into his face three times before he shoves me away.
“You knew this would happen, Kolyan. You said it was okay.”
“It isn’t okay,” I snarl. “You made her cry.”
He glares up at me and shakes his head. “You made her cry. She’s attached to you, and she doesn’t want me.”