Wicked Intentions (The Bobrov Bratva #1) Read Online Shandi Boyes

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Dark, Erotic, Mafia Tags Authors: Series: The Bobrov Bratva Series by Shandi Boyes
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Total pages in book: 113
Estimated words: 106541 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 533(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
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I jump out with a scream, then just as quickly, my bones leap out of my skin when the bathroom door is kicked open, and Ghost races in with a gun in his hand and an angry blood-smeared snarl.

After pulling across the shower curtain to make sure the cubicle is empty, he moves for the door he busted down, then the linen cupboard.

When he fails to find whoever he’s searching for, he shifts his focus back to me.

He doesn’t utter a word, but his bowed brow speaks volumes.

“The water was cold.”

He already looks set to kill, but the glint in his eyes darkens when a voice from outside the bathroom asks, “Is everything okay?”

Ghost’s narrowed eyes snap to my naked breasts, to the man outside, then back to me in two painfully quick seconds before his hand shoots up to my throat. He pins me to the only solid wall in the bathroom before I can utter a syllable, then gets up close to my face. “What did I tell you?”

“He-he didn’t see me,” I wheeze through the minute gap he left for small parcels of air to slip down my windpipe. “Ho-how could he? You’re standing in the doorway.”

“But that’s why he’s here, isn’t it?” The tips of my toes struggle to maintain contact with the floor when he tightens his grip, which inevitably brings me closer to his height. “He wants to look.”

“No.” I try to shake my head when my voice is barely a squeak, but it is impossible with how hard he is gripping me.

“Do you know what he’ll do to you if he finds out you let them look?” He doesn’t wait for me to ask who he is referencing, much less think of an appropriate answer that won’t get me killed. “He will gift you to them all. At once. Forty, fifty, sixty men all vying for the same hole at the same time.” He leans in closer, bringing his mouth to within touching distance of my earlobe. “They’ll tear you to fucking shreds before leaving you to bleed out. Is that what you want, Little Lamb? Do you want to be fucked to death?”

“No.” Even in my breathless state, you can’t miss my reply.

“Then listen to what I say. Do as I tell you to do.” He weakens his grip before tightening it once more. “Because once you piss him off, no one will be able to save you.” He tilts his head until every painful detail of his scarred face is exposed. He is a handsome man with devastating looks, but you can’t hide the ugliness of the world he lives in when you look directly at his scarred face. “Not even me.”

He waits for me to absorb the absolute truth in his eyes before he frees me from his grip and exits the bathroom with the same dramatic edge he undertook to enter it.

Almost an hour later, I’m sitting near the closed window at the foot of the bed, admiring the moonlight peeking through the salt residue buildup on the window. It isn’t the sun, and only dark temperamental waters swirl beneath it, but when you’ve looked at nothing but bland walls for what feels like an eternity, it is more captivating than you could ever comprehend.

I’m a bird trapped in a cage, but Ghost’s response would have you convinced I’m the only one left on Earth.

My emotions already have my head in a tailspin, and his teetering moods aren’t helping. He raced in to save me before almost ending my life. That makes no sense. How can you act as if my worth is invaluable but then treat me as if I am worthless at the same time?

With a shrug that adds a tinge of pain to my neck, I flop my legs off the mattress, then take a long, lazy cat stretch. I’m about to slip beneath the sheets when a shadow casting from the cloudless night captures my attention.

We’re in the middle of the ocean, and excluding the moon, the sky is empty, so what caused the shadow?

Too curious for my own good, I balance on my knees and squash my face to the cool glass. My breath hitches in my throat when, for the second time, a dark object zooms past my window. It is bulky and large, but descending so fast it makes a splash before my eyes can follow its descent.

It is chased by another black object.

Then another.

What could they possibly be dumping into the ocean in the middle of the night?

Surely, they wouldn’t have enough waste yet?

Once I started eating, I didn’t stop until my stomach was bulging and the dining table was almost empty.

I sink back onto the balls of my feet when reality smacks into me.

I’ve seen those black bags before.

Normally, they were far too big for the petite bodies placed in them.


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