Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
But he’s wrong. She owes him nothing.
He snarls at her while my mind races with plans to thwart him. To protect her.
“You weren’t supposed to tell lover boy that I was alive."
"I didn’t," she says. "I know why you want me, Carlos. Isabella told me everything. You’re not going to get your way.”
She still clutches the pepper spray. I can tell that she’s surprised and definitely afraid but also determined. She is not going to back down in front of her brother.
He blocks the exit while I assess what the fuck to do. Suddenly, strong arms grab me from behind. I fight, but whoever holds me doesn’t let go. I look over my shoulder to see a masked man behind me. Fuck. Where are my brothers?
Carlos gives me a smile. "Did you really think I’d come alone? Knowing that you’d kill me on sight? I’ve seen how good you are with a weapon, fucking Romanov."
This is personal. I don’t even know why, but this is fucking personal.
"You didn’t think you’d get away so easily, did you, Renata?"
Every muscle in my body tenses. "Leave her alone," I warn, even though I know it will do no good. I flex and try with all my might to get away from whoever holds me, but he’s got me in a grip so tight I can’t budge.
Carlos laughs. "Or what, Ollie? You’ll kill me? Just like you killed my men?" His eyes gleam as he looks at me. “Are you protecting my sister? Just so you can fuck her again? So you can take everything that belongs to her? Does she even know why you married her?"
Renata’s eyes widen as she looks at me. What the fuck is he talking about?
“Ollie,” she whispers.
“Don’t let him manipulate you. Don’t listen to him.”
He takes another step closer to Renata, but she stands her ground and clenches her teeth. "Carlos, it doesn’t have to be this way," she begins to plead.
No! If she thinks for one goddamn minute, she can make him listen…
"Don’t you fucking touch her," I growl, my voice shaking with rage. Carlos smirks.
Where the hell are my men? Where the hell are my brothers?
"There’s something you don’t understand, Mr. Romanov," Carlos says with a sickening voice. "Renata has always been mine. Blood is thicker than water, especially for the cartel. Don’t you know that?" He shakes his head.
Renata tightens her grip on the canister, her knuckles white. Carlos doesn’t know she has it, he hasn’t seen it yet. She glances at me, and I give her a silent nod. We are going to have to fight our way out of this together.
"I came here to get you, little sister, because we have everything we need—no one can stop us now. I knew that if I sent you here, I’d be able to find a way in. I also knew that if we trapped you, we’d get critical information about the Romanovs. And we did, didn’t we?" he says with a smile. Renata shakes her head as if confused. Has she been working with him all along? “You’ve made it so easy for me, Renata. Thank you so very much for your cooperation, sister. I’ll now take you with me, turn you over to trusted partners, and take my fucking inheritance.”
"What inheritance?" she asks, but she’s a terrible liar. I don’t know what the fuck he’s talking about either, but she definitely does.
He reaches for her, and with a scream, she pulls the trigger.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Renata
My hand trembles. Even now, with everything he’s done, with all the lives he’s ruined—including mine—I hesitate. I should want to hurt him, but I don’t. And that’s what I hate most about myself.
The spray goes a mile wide.
Carlos only shakes his head, and then, in two steps, he reaches me. He doesn't hurt me, though, but puts my hands behind my back, almost gently, and pulls a large zip tie from his pocket.
He's planned this. This is exactly what he planned to do all along.
"I told you what would happen, didn't I?" he whispers softly. His voice is cold, and I hate the way my stomach turns just looking at him.
"I told you what I would do," he says, and I can't help it. I see the little boy I knew. I see it in his eyes and the way his mouth twists, as if he's acting, like somebody is pulling the strings on a puppet.
"Who's putting you up to this, Carlos? This wasn't you, this isn't you!”
He only stares at me and doesn't move, but his muscles are tense, his eyes alert. He's waiting for his chance.
Ollie won’t let him live; he can’t. Carlos is dead. I know it. But how can I be the one who pulls the trigger? How will I forgive Ollie if he does?
Carlos continues to lecture as if convincing himself that he’s doing the right thing.