Total pages in book: 126
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 118309 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 592(@200wpm)___ 473(@250wpm)___ 394(@300wpm)
Mercifully, Lara seems more interested in my rant than Ivan does, who’s still glaring at me as if I am dog shit stuck under his shoe. “Do you know who drugged you or what synthetic they used?”
“No. We took a sample with the hope it would give us answers, but the results aren’t back yet.”
She jots down something in her notepad before asking, “Do you have an approximate time you were drugged?”
I shake my head. “I don’t remember much from before I arrived for my shift yesterday. I remember driving there, and I think I entered via the underground garage elevator, but I can’t be sure. It’s all blank.”
“Until what time?”
Ivan’s sudden interest in my defense is shocking, but I don’t realize it is a trap until it is too late. “I woke around two.”
“A.m.?” Lara checks.
When I nod, victory gleams in Ivan’s sable eyes. “So the alibi your husband’s lawyer gave us an hour ago is false. He was not with you at all.”
“Th-that isn’t what I said. I said I woke at two. But he was with me the en-entire time.”
“How would you know if you were passed out?”
Again, he doesn’t deserve a reply, but Zoya can’t cut down his attitude without words. “Because he sleeps inside her every night, and unlike the unfortunate women who have slept with you, she couldn’t mistake his presence.”
I assume I am imagining Maksim’s deep, commanding timbre sounding through my ears when he says, “It’s actually anytime she sleeps, but I’ll save the details for someone more worthy of my time.” But why can I smell his manly scent if it is an illusion?
I’m grateful Zoya still has me attached to her hip when Maksim enters the foyer from the left. It appears as if he is exiting the main bedroom of the penthouse after a shower. His hair is wet, and his suit smells freshly laundered. It is just the tiredness in his eyes that tells the truth.
I wasn’t the only one who went without sleep last night.
Maksim was right there with me.
After banding his arm around my waist, taking over Zoya’s campaign to keep me upright, Maksim presses his lips to my temple before he shifts his focus to the detectives. “Is there something I can assist you with, Officers?”
With Ivan too shocked by Maksim’s arrival to speak, Lara takes up the campaign. “Detective Lara Sonova from Trudny PD.” After showing her credentials, she says, “We’re here to verify the alibi Raya Hughes gave for Mrs. Fern—” She recovers quickly. “Mrs. Ivanov earlier today.”
“Once she finalized her shift, she was here with me all night, as my lawyer has already stated.”
Lara checks her notes. “And—”
“And if you have any further questions, they can be directed through my lawyer, as also stated earlier.” I shouldn’t love Maksim’s arrogance, but I do. He is the ruler of his realm, and I am the woman he will protect until the end of his reign. “Is that understood?”
“Yes,” Lara replies, nodding.
She shifts her eyes to me for the quickest second before she returns to the elevator.
It takes Ivan another thirty seconds to join her.
He keeps staring at Maksim like he’s seeing a ghost.
There are a million questions in my head, but none will be voiced until I thoroughly investigate Maksim’s body. I don’t even care that Zoya and my grandmother are in the room with us. I tug his business shirt out of his trousers with so much urgency that stitches pop before buttons scatter across the marble floors.
I secure a full breath for the first time in almost a minute.
He is unharmed and beautifully humored by my search.
His laugh rumbles through my chest, shuddering out some of the calcifications his absence caused to my heart before it drops to an area far lower.
My pussy, to be precise.
“Ano?” That’s all I can get out—one measly name.
Zoya sighs with me when Maksim replies, “He was found a few hours ago. He is a little groggy and sporting a handful of new stitches, but he’s been through worse, so I don’t see his recovery taking long.”
“Is it…? Did you…?” I don’t think I will ever be able to place murder and his name in the same sentence, so I try a different way to get answers. “Is it done?”
His eyes dance between mine for many seconds before he jerks up his chin. I assume that will be the end of his reply, but he shocks me by walking me to the corner of the foyer that hides me from the security camera before he says, “The faction working out of Myasnikov Private was more extensive than anyone realized. They weren’t just selling the organs of legitimate donors. They were encouraging harvests.”
I’m completely lost, but mercifully, Zoya seems more clued in. “With food?” When Maksim nods, she shifts her wide eyes to me. “That’s why you kept bringing up bananas.” Her focus is back on Maksim. “Her memories are still foggy, but she recalled seeing a crate of bananas being carried out of the hospital.”