Total pages in book: 132
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 127249 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 636(@200wpm)___ 509(@250wpm)___ 424(@300wpm)
He looks at me with a raised brow and big eyes, as if everything I’ve said is news to him. “Who took Naomi out?”
“A rat in my organization. He’s dead now. When I find out who he ratted to, that person will be dead too.”
“Well, it wasn’t me.” Laughing, he straightens. “It seems you’ve got your work cut out for you.”
“Are you denying involvement with any of these people?”
“Categorically.”
“What about Teszner?” I ask when he turns to leave.
He pauses. “His father and I went way back. We had a—How shall I call it?—love-hate relationship. He wasn’t the world’s most popular person, but he had a good sense for business. I could respect that. It’s the only reason I agreed to lend his son money.” He comes closer, standing toe to toe with me. “But if he doesn’t pay it back soon, I’ll be knocking at his door.”
I chuckle. “You’ll have to get in line. The loan sharks are after him too.”
He watches me with a shrewd expression. “There’s word on the street that you cut out his tongue for insulting his sister.”
“I poked out his eyes too, and I’ll do the same to any person who looks wrong at my wife.”
He clucks. “Have I discovered a weakness?”
“Nothing you won’t do for your family in a similar situation, I hope.”
His expression turns sour. Everyone knows he hates his wife, who was given to him as part of a marriage contract. Her father is a powerful player in Russia, and Skripchenko can’t get rid of her without starting a war.
“I’ll tell you if I hear anything,” he says with a flat smile.
I return the gesture. “I’ll take it as an insult if you don’t.”
He flicks his fingers at his men, who shoots us bashful grins as they get into the Mustang. Skripchenko waves as he burns the tires and takes off in a cloud of dust.
I stare after his car.
For his sake, I hope he didn’t lie to me.
My phone rings. My gut tightens when I see the caller ID.
Pressing the phone to my ear, I make my way back to my car with long strides. “Ulysses?”
“Is the meeting over?”
“We’ve just wrapped it up.”
“How did it go?” His tone is dry. “Is he alive?”
“Yes,” I bite out. “He didn’t give me anything of value. He denied knowing any of them.”
Not that I expected much, but I’ve laid down a just cause for war. It’s a well-known fact that Skripchenko uses the mercenaries for his dirty work. If he knows something or is involved with the people who abducted Tatiana and he chooses to keep his mouth shut, no one will blame me if I take him out.
“But you didn’t call me to ask how my meeting went.” I stop next to the car. Ulysses isn’t a man for idle chat. He never calls unless there’s a problem. “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Mrs. Morici.”
I freeze, dread filling my veins. “What happened?”
“She saw you at the Italian restaurant.”
“Fuck.” I yank the door open and get inside. “Why the fuck didn’t you call me?”
“Because I knew you’d react like this, and you needed to keep your cool for that meeting.”
My men follow suit, slamming the doors when they’re in the car.
I start the engine. “Where is she?”
“At the house.”
“Keep her there,” I grunt out before ending the call and flooring the gas.
Chapter
Thirty-Three
Tatiana
* * *
The slamming of the front door makes me jump where I’m brushing my hair in front of the bathroom mirror. A moment later, Dante appears in the door frame, looking pissed off as hell. His tie is askew, and his hair is disheveled.
Watching me in the mirror, he stalks to me. I shiver when he stops with his chest against my back.
He bends down and kisses the shell of my ear. The act is tender, but the words he whispers are harsh. “Missed me?”
I tilt my head sideways, pulling away from his touch. “I thought you’d be home much later.”
“Where’s Noah?”
“In bed.”
Leaning his palms on the vanity on either side of my body, he cages me in. “Did he ask for me?”
I turn in his arms and crane my neck to meet his eyes. “What do you think?”
He trails his gaze over my face. “I had a business meeting.”
My smile is cool. “So you said.”
“I’ll spend time with him tomorrow.”
“You don’t have to justify yourself to me, Dante. Tell that to your son. He’s the one who needs you.”
His nostrils flare. “As opposed to you?”
“I can take care of myself.”
“Oh, I don’t doubt that for one minute, darling.”
“Let me pass.” I press my hands on his chest. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”
He takes in my cotton pajama top and matching shorts. For once, I’m not wearing something I think he may find sexy. My drawers are full of lacy negligées and silk nightdresses. Most of them are new. This pajama set, however, is old, faded, and comfortable. It’s something I would’ve worn to bed if I weren’t trying to seduce my husband.