Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
He notices me for the first time and takes the headphones from his ears. “Karine,” he says.
“I’m sorry,” I repeat and step toward him. “I shouldn’t have pulled away like that.”
“You’re afraid for your mother. I understand.”
“I was blaming you. In my head, I was so angry.”
His expression darkens. “In some ways, it was my fault. You’re right to think that way.”
“No, I was wrong.” I walk to him, heart beating hard. “You helped me from the start. You risked yourself to save her. I should’ve just… I should’ve been more grateful. I’m afraid, Valentin. That’s all.”
He comes to me. I breathe in his smell as he kisses me and holds me close against his damp chest. I don’t mind that he’s sweaty, not one tiny bit.
“I’m going to meet with your uncle tomorrow morning,” he says very quietly. “The plans are in motion. We’ll work this out.”
“Don’t give up too much for me.”
He sighs and kisses me very softly. “You don’t understand yet, do you? Nothing else matters to me but you.”
Chapter 33
Valentin
The sun rises over a boring Starbucks in a little nondescript town right off I-95, a straight shot south toward Baltimore from Philly.
The parking lot is filled with black SUVs: Bentleys, BMWs, Rolls-Royce. I doubt this many high-end cars ever parked in this place in its existence. I’m sure this much power has never descended on this little Starbucks and its quiet little employees living their normal fucking lives.
But if my last meeting with Aram repeats itself, I suspect I’m going to create a lasting memory for them. Assuming any of them survive.
“Let me surround the place,” Anton says, squinting at the front door. It looks quiet, all things considered. I spot Aram’s soldiers loitering nearby drinking coffees and staring in our direction.
“You know the agreement. Aram and I only.”
“It’s suicide. You walk in there, you’ll never walk out.”
“Then you cut Arsen’s head off and make sure you send it express delivery to his fucking father. Aram’s not stupid.”
Anton didn’t look convinced, but we’d already had this discussion. I push open the door and step out into the brisk morning air, aware that all eyes are locked on me at this moment.
I stride across the parking lot and into the cafe.
The smell of brewing espresso and the hiss of the machines distracts me. There’s a small line of tired-looking normal people waiting for their orders. A man in a suit’s sitting in the corner typing on a laptop.
And sitting among them is a monster.
Aram stands when I approach. He chose a table at the far side of the building and he’s sitting with his back to a wall.
“I wasn’t sure you’d show up,” he says.
He doesn’t offer to shake, and I don’t either.
“We have some things to discuss.”
I stare at the older man, taking his measure. He looks back, holding my gaze, and doesn’t flinch. I can admit a grudging respect for him, even if he represents everything I hate in this world. The old guard, a spiteful, selfish bastard, with a small mind and a pathetic crew.
“If you want to get something to drink, go ahead.” He gestures toward the baristas.
I ignore him and take my seat. He smiles like he won some kind of victory and lowers himself down with a grunt before spreading his hands.
“Why did you do it?” I ask him very softly.
His eyebrows raise. “Because it was a good move. My sister’s always been a nuisance.”
“Not Miriam.” I lean closer. “You know what I’m talking about.”
A sly smile comes across his face. “Ah, yes, I was wondering when we’d get to that.”
My father. He was a cold and distant bastard. I must’ve inherited that trait from him. But where my father enjoyed violence, I wield it like a tool. If it gets the job done, I don’t mind it.
But my old man reveled in blood and obedience.
We weren’t close, but he taught me everything I know and helped mold me into the man I am today.
And when Aram murdered him, I wasn’t upset.
Not for my father’s death. Without him to oppress me at every possible opportunity, I was able to turn the family around and help it thrive these last few years. Under my guidance, the Zaitsev Bratva has reclaimed its place as one of the most powerful criminal organizations on the East Coast.
That could never have happened under my father. He was too stubborn and small-minded.
But it was an insult to me and my family, and even though I’ll never miss my father, I will do anything I can to get revenge.
“Victor and I had a deal, something similar to the deal we were trying to put together.” Aram tells the story as if he’s relating ancient, unimportant history, like reciting a lesson to a child. “But your father was a brutal, thuggish bastard, and on the night he was betrothed to my sister, he broke her jaw. It was, allegedly, supposed to teach her who the man in the house would be.”