A Sense of Duty (Volkov Bratva #2) Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Romance, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Volkov Bratva Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 92133 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 461(@200wpm)___ 369(@250wpm)___ 307(@300wpm)
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Her family had already been waiting for us when we made it down this morning. Adelaide had gone straight to the coffee, not eating a single thing, just drinking caffeine. She hadn’t slept at all last night, and I should know, I’d been lying in the bed beside her, watching her, waiting. The moment the sun began to rise, she was the first one out of bed.

Two minutes later, Leo brought the car to a stop outside a diner. Half of the sign was missing so it spelled IER. This was not a place I would stop.

“I’ll only be a minute,” Adelaide said. Her hand reached for the door.

I grabbed her arm, tugging her against me. “Don’t ever get out of the car unless I say so. Understand?”

Her eyes went wide and she jerked her head, letting me know she understood. I highly doubted it, but I didn’t scold her anymore. She would have to learn on the job. She was now a Bratva wife. Going out into the world was no longer as easy as it once was.

Leo was already out of the car, on guard, as he opened my door. Climbing out, I had one hand at the base of my back, waiting. I still held my wife, firmly, and without waiting, I marched her into the diner.

It wasn’t busy, and Leo was already at the counter, talking to the man who was wiping out a glass. The scent of greasy food was heavy in the air.

I didn’t eat in places like this, not for a long time. Living on the streets, I’d find odd jobs working in diners like this. After the first few weeks of running away, my father had sent some of his men to look for me, but I had a way of hiding in plain sight. Changing my hair and dress, I’d been able to blend in.

It also helped that I’d been a skinny kid. Someone people glanced over, but never took the time to care about. I’d used it to my advantage. Over the years, I’d come close to the previous Bratva men and I’d been so tempted to kill for them, but it was only when I joined with Ivan that I’d allowed myself the pleasure. The moment Ivan said I could, I did, and I relished it.

Killing was in my blood. It called to my soul.

“I can go on my own,” Adelaide said.

Ignoring her, I shoved her into the bathroom. It had a single toilet, and there was writing all over the walls from previous customers. The place was a dump, no doubt about it.

Her face was a pretty shade of red. I wasn’t used to being around women who blushed so easily.

“Pee,” I said.

“No. I can’t go with you watching.”

“Then you don’t have to go.” I reached out to her but she stepped back, her shaking hands going to the belt of her jeans. “Could you at least look away?”

“Do you think seeing a woman pee is gross?”

“I … I know it’s natural and all that, but it’s not something you need to see.”

I stared at her.

“Please,” she said.

I wasn’t turning around.

Her jaw clenched and she lowered herself to the toilet, after she cleaned it. She squirmed. Didn’t she realize I found her reaction to my presence amusing? I wasn’t going to tell her.

Adelaide was interesting. I’d never met another woman like her. The women I knew were only after money and position. They liked my wealth and status. Bethany had asked me endless questions about what being my wife would mean. Could she get away with murder? Could she have a slave? Could she kill? The woman was an evil bitch, much like her parents. Their only desire had been for what they could get out of life. Adelaide asked for nothing. She didn’t even beg for her own safety.

I’m aware she wasn’t given a choice in being my wife, and I accept that. She wasn’t here of her own free will, but she wouldn’t get the option of going anywhere else. I owned her. She was my wife, and the only way out was by death.

Adelaide peed and I was shocked that she was very desperate to go. The coffee had needed a way out. Her face was bright red by the time she finished. I could have fried an egg on her cheeks with how flushed she looked, even as she wiped. She wiggled back into her clothes as if she had a choice of keeping her nakedness from me.

Two years. Two years to put my baby inside her without raping her.

Adelaide couldn’t even look at me. Her hands were constantly shaking. The ring decorating her finger was too large. It was a statement ring, a brand of ownership.

She was mine and I wasn’t going to give her back.


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