Total pages in book: 59
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 56608 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 283(@200wpm)___ 226(@250wpm)___ 189(@300wpm)
Nikolai winces like he’s in pain, but it’s nothing compared to the sick twist in my gut. The thought of Dimitri pushing me away, of not caring, hurts. It stings. Even if I know it’s all make-believe.
The men around Nikolai look at each other. Some of them have tattoos all over their neck and hands. Nikolai laughs a moment later. “As long as you put a ring on it…”
The men look disgusted. Nikolai doesn’t even realize. As everybody sits down, he’s busy dabbing at his face with a handkerchief, sweat pouring all over him. A waiter comes and asks everyone what drinks they’d like. I get a soda, but most of the men get alcohol, except for Dimitri, Mikhail, and Nikolai.
“Quite the commotion,” Nikolai says. “Nothing to get people talking like a good old bomb threat.” Nikolai is talking to Dimitri, but his gaze fixates on the table and how Dimitri’s hand moves toward mine. I resist the urge to pull it away. Something is terrifying in the way he glares.
If he had the chance, I know he’d make it impossible for us ever to be together.
“Do you have to be so obvious about it?” Nikolai says, sounding more like a whiny child than a boss. Clearly, he’s a bully, and he looks oh-so small compared to Dimitri.
“She’s my woman, Nikolai,” he says. “You can arrange any marriage you want, but she’ll never stop being my woman.”
“This is—” Nikolai stands up. His hand moves quickly over his head and face, constantly mopping at the sweat. I wonder if he has some kind of condition that causes him to sweat so much. “Dimitri, perhaps we should talk in private.”
Dimitri stands slowly like a man with all the time in the world, making Nikolai seem rushed. “Yes, let’s do that. Away from the women.”
Just like that, he turns and walks away. Nikolai is left to fumble as Mikhail and the other men leave. I must push down my natural response, my urge to go with Dimitri. This was all part of the plan, and now Mila is staring at me. “I didn’t know you would be so obvious about it.”
“We had to be,” I murmur. “We had to make him mad.”
“But you didn’t tell me.”
“Mila, you—”
“I made a mistake,” she cuts in, referring to the fact that she almost helped get me kidnapped, though she did save me from my would-be kidnapper.
“This is bigger than just us,” I tell her.
She stares down at the table.
CHAPTER 25
DIMITRI
We meet in the back office, which I especially assigned for a private meeting because I had it soundproofed as part of our preparation. I knew there would be a chance for a private meeting at some point, especially after I rubbed my woman in his face.
It hurt like hell, pretending she was just some side thing, which is why I had to take it one step further and call her my woman.
In the office, Oleg, Nikolai’s second, stands just behind the conference table. He’s a powerful-looking man, at least ten years younger than Nikolai. So far, Nikolai has maintained control through fear, finances, and my father’s support. Well, my father’s gone now.
I stay standing, too. Nikolai realizes too late. He’s already sitting. He leans forward like he might stand but then huffs and sits back. Mikhail, Denis, and Nikolai’s other man sit toward the edge of the meeting.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Nikolai snaps. “We both know how this looks.”
“You sent men to kidnap Dahlia,” I tell him. “Before that, you were tailing me. That’s how you knew to go after her. You and my father even arranged for one of my guards to turn against us. One last fuck-you from the grave.”
Nikolai rubs his face like he’s trying to scrub his skin off. “That’s not… Those are big words,” he barks. “Big words, Dimitri.”
“The man was terrified of you, Nikolai—Kirill.” Nikolai winces when Mikhail cuts in, as though he recognizes the name. “I got the truth out of him. Of course, I had to get my hands dirty to do it. I had to leave my very convenient, luxurious life to torture some lowlife prick for you.”
Mikhail sits up, glaring at Nikolai, looking as big and terrifying as any Bratva warrior.
“Do you deny the charges, then?” I ask.
“Obviously,” Nikolai snaps.
“What about Artyom, Nikolai?” I growl, leaning forward, causing the little rat to wilt in his seat like the coward he is. “Before I bled him with my knife…” The tone in the room lowers, which is precisely what I wanted. Mikhail gets fierce about violence, but I detach. I’m cold. It freaks people out, and that’s useful. “He somehow knew about Kirill’s connection to Mila and you. How would he know that unless you sent him?”
“That doesn’t prove—”
“The dead kidnapper links to Artyom. Artyom links to Kirill. Kirill links to you.” Mikhail looks like he’s ready for blood.