Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84901 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 425(@200wpm)___ 340(@250wpm)___ 283(@300wpm)
Edik surged to his feet, planting himself between us, the dull nail file clutched in his hand. “Stay away from her!” The steel in his tone surprised me.
Lorenzo smiled—thin, cruel. Feral. “Ah, the youngest Mikhailov. Not brave like your brother or father. Kidding, they have others fight their battles.” His boots hit the marble with slow, predatory weight. “Still, you don’t know her like I do.”
“Natasha. Is. My. Friend.” Edik lunged. They collided hard, fists cracking against flesh, bodies slamming onto a dresser, shattering the mirror. Glass crashed to the floor. Brutal, raw, two men matched in strength, neither yielding.
Lorenzo’s snarl ripped through the air. “I know about your family. Old-school Russian. Lachlan had her, you know?” He growled, choking an exhausted Edik, whose fist slammed repeatedly into his jaw. “But … I had her first.”
His gun might be empty, but the words struck deeper than a bullet.
Lorenzo’s glare pinned me, his pupils dilated. Black pits that sucked me in whole. With eerie excitement in his tone, Lorenzo repeated his words from the hospital. “Will we plant Rain’s tree in the garden?” His eyes glittered.
My skin ran cold.
“But before we had that night, you marked me, Natasha. You laughed so hard the air became jealous.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Never been to a rom-com. Never been kissed the way we kissed after that movie. You marked me then.”
He … raped me? Then screwed around with my mind! All this time, I’d wondered how I could’ve marked my rapist. My stomach plunged. My heart ripped wide. Memories clawed up—the scent of cologne. His cologne. He’d worn it at the Chinese Theater. Then again when he’d raped me. Sharp. Zesty mandarin orange and nutmeg. How could I have forgotten?
Edik froze, shock flooding his face. “You raped … her? Wow. I thought the Mikhailov name stood for cruelty.”
Lorenzo’s smile widened, victory gleaming in the madness. He used Edik’s hesitation to slam a fist into his jaw. The next blow hit him in the stomach, dropping him.
“I have access to Natasha’s phone calls.” Lorenzo’s voice thickened with triumph, as if he’d been waiting for this revelation. “I love her voice even when she doesn’t want to hear from me.”
The words iced my blood. Cold. Frozen. My chest rose, fell—but no air filled my lungs. My body stayed locked to the seat, tethered by the zip ties that chewed into my left wrist.
“You see, she was mine before she was yours.” Lorenzo hissed at Edik. His teeth glinted wolfish in the sunlight. “Yes, the two of you restructured your contract, after my lovely twenty-first birthday gift to Natasha. Such a sweet little chat you had, Edik. She didn’t tell you that she’d made love already—that she’d voided the contract. No, she just said she was happy with Lach. And you agreed that you wanted what she had. Love. But did you think Lev Mikhailov would allow that?”
“We never made love” spat from my lips at the same time Edik growled, “Doesn’t matter. We deserve to choose our own paths toward marriage.”
“Whatever. And you gave me leverage, an asset. Let’s just say, the Mikhailov Bratva has been accommodating.”
Edik’s eyes widened. “You’re the anonymous caller?”
“Before the plane even cleared Cali airspace, I had you all en route. Your team devoured every update. And when the Russian extracted Natasha from the dump in Dundee, you executed my plan like clockwork.”
My stomach lurched violently, vomit clawing my throat. Lach and I never had a chance.
“Natasha, if he hadn’t supported your choice not to marry during that call …” Lorenzo’s eyes flicked to mine. “Well, it doesn’t matter. He doesn’t like you. You don’t like him.” Enzo backhanded him. “Edik, you saved yourself a bullet to the head the day after her birthday because you agreed not to marry her. Though, she really had called you because we had breached that contract.”
“We?” I found my voice. “W-we did nothing. You raped me! You heard the tears in my voice when I called him. They. Were. Because. Of. You—”
Ignoring me, words erupted from his chest, overpowering mine. “She was mine, Edik. Not the Scots. Not yours, Edik. Mine the moment she kissed me!”
His eyes danced toward me. Crazed. Possessive. Fixed on me.
Lorenzo’s smirk widened, a predator basking in the kill. Edik froze, shock lining his face. Oh, no! If Lorenzo killed him, he couldn’t help stop the war between our families.
A shadow moved. Rope whipped around Lorenzo’s throat from behind. A familiar silhouette—broad, burning, wild-eyed.
Lachlan.
A storm lived in his face. Fury carved every line of him as he yanked back on the rope. Staring at me, eyes glazed with perplexity, Lorenzo clawed at the rope.
Lachlan overpowered him from the rear. His Scottish roar shook the walls. “You touched her! You bloody raped my woman! Me wife!”