Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
“Two days seems like a lot, that’s all.”
“I can’t risk the Brotherhood setting up an ambush.”
My stomach twists as I watch the manicured bushes and trees flit past. We pull into a parking lot and roll toward the two-story white building with pristine columns in the front and a gorgeous golf course spreading out behind it.
“You think they would?” I ask, not sure what to believe.
“Aram and I do not have a good history.” He’s glaring out the window like he means to shatter it. There are fancy cars parked in the lot already: BMW, Mercedes, Bentley. An Aston Martin’s left in the handicap space.
“What is with you and the Brotherhood? Why are we even doing this?”
“I told you. This is a part of my plan.” He turns to me as Anton parks the car in an empty space. More SUVs pull up, and Valentin’s men climb out. None of them are obviously armed, but I know they’re wearing body armor under their white shirts and have pistols hidden in their waistbands.
“What’s your plan, exactly?”
He turns to me, expression dark and angry. “You are going to get me close to your uncle.”
“And then? What are you going to do?”
“Make an alliance.” He touches my face gently. I pull back, afraid of the malicious look he’s giving me. “Then I’ll get my revenge.”
I open my mouth to press him for more, but he’s already getting out of the car. I have to hurry to keep up. He offers his arm and I take it, and he slows as we approach the entrance.
“Stay silent,” he instructs, hand squeezing my wrist. “You’re here to observe and nothing more. Understand?”
“Speak when spoken to, got it,” I mutter, wishing I could be angrier.
But a trio of men steps out of the country club and I can’t remember what I was about to say.
All three of them are tall and broad. They have the dark hair and dark eyes of my father, the cheekbones of my mother. The man in the center is around Mama’s age and grizzled with a salt-and-pepper beard and a hooked nose.
Behind them, more soldiers in dark clothes, and several women looking bored and put out, all in extremely fine dresses.
Valentin stops a few feet away from the welcome party.
“Aram,” he says nodding at the man in the middle.
My uncle stares back at him, showing nothing on his face. “Valentin Zaitsev. It has been a long time.”
“A very long time,” Valentin agrees. “I wasn’t sure you’d come.”
“And yet here I am. I was thinking, the problems we’ve had, they’re long in the past. We’re evolved men now, are we not? And besides—” He looks over at me and his lips curl. “It seems you’ve brought one of my stray dogs home.”
Valentin’s grip on my arm tightens. I feel the anger waft off him, but as soon as it appears, he pushes it back down. “This is my wife. Karine Zaitsev.”
“Yes, I know who she is. My lost sister’s little girl.” He leans toward me, bridging the gap between our parties with his chest. “The last time I saw you, you were this big.” He puts his hand down toward his knees. “And look at you now. All grown up and married to a Zaitsev. You’ve done well for yourself.”
I say nothing. Aram shows his teeth in what I think is meant to be a smile, but looks more like a murderous grimace. His whole vibe is off; everything about him is wrong. I think of Mama sitting on the floor with a black eye. I think of the fear infusing her body.
This is what evil looks like.
And Valentin wants to drag me back into that world.
I want to run. If I could pull away and take off, I’d do it. But Valentin’s got me tightly, and it’s much too late.
Aram introduces the men with him. Sons, as it turns out, one named Arsen and the other Tigran. Traditional Armenian names. There’s also his sister, a woman named Sona, who looks at me like I’m slime in her shower’s grout.
Nobody shakes hands. There are no exchanges of friendship.
But there’s no gunfire or screams of bloody rage, which seems like a good thing.
The party moves inside. The interior of the club is empty except for Bratva and Brotherhood members. Valentin, Anton, and several of the high-ranking Bratva members take up a large table in the very back of a wood-paneled room with a bar running down one end. I’m deposited in the corner and told to stay put.
“Don’t worry, this should be very boring.” Sona appears with a bottle of wine and two glasses. She doesn’t smile as she sits and pours the drinks. I don’t know what I expected from my aunt, but there’s nothing warm or kind in her right now. If she cares that we’re family, she doesn’t show it. “My brother has a soft spot for your husband, you know.”