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)
And it was my fault.
It was my fault.
How could I have been so stupid? How could I have been so naive? I should have kept my mouth shut and let that horrible woman insult my parents. If I had been the bigger person, Valentin’s men might still be alive, and his plans might still be in motion.
Instead, I let my anger get the best of me and I started a war.
I play that moment over and over through my head. I think of a dozen different ways I could’ve handled myself. But always, no matter what, the shooting starts again, because my aunt was setting me up from the very start.
I don’t know how much time passes. I feel catatonic as I wrap my arms around myself and close my eyes. I can’t drift off to sleep though—because whenever I feel like I might start drifting, I hear the guns again.
I see the blood and taste the fear.
“Malishka.” His voice. Deep and low and perfect. I open my eyes and Valentin’s there, kneeling beside the chair. “Are you okay?”
I flinch away when he tries to touch my face. “I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine.” He slowly gets to his feet.
“Valentin.” Sorrow burns in my voice as I shy away from him. He looms over me, a gorgeous, dark god of death. I’m aware that I’d be in the ground right now if it weren’t for him saving my life, and I don’t think I deserved it.
“Come with me.”
“Valentin, please.” I shake my head as I try to push him away as he leans down to grab me. “Please, I don’t deserve it.”
He ignores me and drags me to my feet. When I struggle, he simply throws me over his shoulder and carries me into the bathroom. I kick and pound his back, not even sure why I’m struggling so hard. He puts me back down in front of the mirror and forces me to look at myself.
The girl staring back is haggard. My hair is a mess and there’s a bruise on my right cheek.
Dried blood cakes my shirt and the side of my neck.
“I’m going to clean you off,” Valentin says and turns on the shower.
Revulsion overtakes me. I strip off my clothes, not thinking about Valentin watching me. I need to get this blood off me so badly, and I don’t care about anything else right now.
I don’t even know whose blood it is.
“Come, malishka,” he says and helps me get my shirt off. I unhook my bra and kick my panties to the side, and I step into the scalding hot water.
It runs reddish brown.
I scrub my skin, getting the crusted blood off. I spit on the floor and wash my hair three times before I start to feel like I’m getting clean again.
The shower door opens and closes, and Valentin joins me.
I’m suddenly extremely aware of him.
He’s big and muscular. Water runs down his sculpted chest and abs, rushing around his dark tattoos. Images of violence, of skulls and snakes and guns, cover his gorgeous body.
“Let me,” he says and begins to clean my back.
I shiver and turn, letting him take over. He’s surprisingly tender for such a big man. Slowly, he cleans me, from my head down to my toes.
“I don’t know why you’re doing this,” I say to him once he’s finished and begins to lather himself. I stand to the side, arms over my chest to cover my breasts, while water drips from my hair.
“You’re my wife. You’re in distress. It’s what a husband should do.”
“Valentin—”
“I know what you’re going to say.” He looks back at me as soap streams down his chest. I follow the flow, down to his abs, along that gorgeous V, to his half-hard cock. Scars pucker his thighs and his stomach, and there’s a bandage over his thigh.
My god, this man is beautiful and terrifying. He could crush me with one hand.
“What’s that?” I ask him, heart racing fast.
“You’re going to tell me what happened in that room was your fault.”
I whimper softly and look at the floor. I’ve never felt so weak and pathetic in my entire life, and I hate it. I hate feeling like this.
“Because it was.”
“You didn’t make me hit Aram.” He steps closer until I’m pinned against the cold tile wall. He peels my arms away from my chest and presses himself to me.
He’s so fucking big and warm. My stiff nipples burn into his gorgeous skin, and I’m trembling for him.
“But I overreacted. Aunt Sona—I mean, that awful woman Sona, she was insulting my family and I couldn’t keep it together.”
“You were defending your parents in the same way I was defending my wife.”
“It was my fault. All I had to do was sit there and be quiet.”
“That’s not what I want from you.”
“Isn’t it? I was supposed to be your ticket to the Brotherhood. And I just, I screwed it up.”