Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 88551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 88551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 443(@200wpm)___ 354(@250wpm)___ 295(@300wpm)
“Adrian.” Sergei motions at him, speaking with a pronounced Russian accent. “Come. Come.”
Adrian takes his hand, kisses it, and places it to his forehead. I do the same because that’s what’s expected when you’re in the presence of the leader of a scary organization.
“Lia.” Sergei’s eyes roam over me as if he’s checking for something to be missing. “You look good for someone who was unwell.”
“Thank you,” I speak with a smile. “I couldn’t miss Igor’s birthday.”
“Much appreciated,” Igor says with a similar Russian accent, his tone unwelcoming.
“Happy birthday. I brought you something, though it’s not much.”
He raises a brow. “I already received Adrian’s present.”
Adrian’s eyes meet mine for a brief second. Right. I didn’t tell him about my gift for Igor. Was I being out of line? What if I insult him? But if I backtrack now, it’ll seem even more suspicious.
“It’s a separate one.”
“A separate one?” It’s Mikhail who asks, drawing out the words, and I immediately dislike him. “Since when does your wife bring a separate gift, Adrian?”
My fake husband remains silent, so I speak calmly, almost like I’m not deterred by what just happened. “I figured that since Igor would have a lot of sugary cake today, I should add one more special birthday cake.”
“At his age, that’s too much,” Sergei says.
“He’s right.” Igor complies with distaste. “My wife wouldn’t approve of that much sugar.”
“That’s what makes mine special. It has a type of sugar that won’t hurt your health. Try it.” I smile. “And if you don’t like it, I’ll make it up to you.”
Igor nods, but the wrinkles don’t ease around his eyes. He seems like he wants to strangle me, as if I offended him in a previous life.
“My, Adrian. I didn’t know Lia could cook. She’s always too unwell; I thought she’d be a corpse by now.” Mikhail takes a sip of a transparent drink, watching me suspiciously.
Shit.
I don’t know why I feel like one of them will pull a mask from over my head and expose me for being a fake.
“She’s been doing better,” Adrian says in his usual calm tone.
“Obviously. Happy to have you with us.” Sergei’s watching me in an unnerving way. I’m glad I’m wearing gloves, because my hands are so sweaty, they would shine under the light.
“The pleasure is all mine, Pakhan.” I don’t know how the hell I manage to speak in a semi-normal tone.
Sergei motions at an empty chair beside Igor. “Sit, Adrian.”
I don’t miss that he only mentions Adrian’s name. My fake husband hesitates for a beat before he releases me and heads to the seat the boss designated for him. I know what this means, I need to go. But I don’t want to. Where will I go in the middle of all these people I don’t know?
However, I force my head to move in a small nod as I turn and leave. I want to think Adrian is watching my back, that Kolya and Yan are somewhere here and will come to my aid, but my legs are shaking as I head to the nearest balcony. I need fresh air and to go home to Jeremy. I’ll even be happy with Adrian’s distant spooning tonight.
“Lia!”
My feet come to a halt at the feminine voice calling my name. I want to pretend I didn’t hear her, but she calls again and I’m forced to turn around.
A beautiful blonde with flawless makeup waves me over to join her circle. Rai Sokolov.
Sergei’s grandniece and the only woman who can rival men in the brotherhood. She’s standing with Damien Orlov and Kirill Morozov. Both of them are leaders. Another man, Aleksander, Kirill’s closest guard, who’s basically in Kolya’s rank, stands with them, but a step back.
I walk to their circle with hesitant steps until I’m a few feet away. That’s when I notice Rai’s baby bump under her royal blue dress.
She kisses my cheeks and I return the gesture. “How have you been, Lia? It’s been a long time since I last saw you.”
“I’m fine, thank you.”
“She’s like a moon, this one.” Damien tilts his head to the side, watching me closely. “Tell me the truth. Is Adrian fattening you to offer you as a sacrifice to his demonic ancestors?”
I part my lips to speak, then close them, not knowing if it’s a joke or how to reply. Damien is good-looking, tall, broad, and with a furious gaze, but he’s marked in the document as reckless and unpredictable.
“Shut up, Damien,” Rai scolds him.
“I’m really curious.” He leans over, watching me as if I’m some mannequin in a store. “Why is he hiding you like you’re some fucked-up version of Sleeping Beauty? Does he do satanic rituals I need to know about?”
“Maybe she’s the one who does the rituals?” Kirill says slowly, readjusting his black-framed glasses. Unlike the old men, these two barely have an accent.