Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34381 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
I rested my chin on his good shoulder and pulled him backward so his back was flush to my chest. “Do I look like the kind of man to let someone go when I become as obsessed with them as I am with you?” I questioned. He shook his head. I hummed and nipped at his jaw. “Good. Get out of your head, mouse. You’re not going anywhere, no matter your ties to the Bratva. You’re mine now.”
With that, I released him and headed for my closet. But I didn’t miss the smile that slipped onto his handsome face when he thought I wasn’t looking.
Maksim was it for me, as fucking insane as that was. He was never escaping me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alfonzo
Rurik’s driver opened the backdoor of the SUV, and Rurik stepped out, his shiny Oxfords appearing first, then his perfectly pressed black slacks. When he emerged, he didn’t look like he’d wrestled anyone into the vehicle. His black shirt was wrinkle-free, and his hair was perfectly styled.
“You look fresh off the runway,” I drawled.
He smirked. “No need to do all the hard work when I have employees to do that for me,” he remarked. His driver shut the door, then silently moved to the back of the SUV. “Your cargo is waiting for you.”
“Stay here,” I quietly told Maksim. He nodded. I headed down the porch steps and onto the driveway. The concrete made a little crunching sound beneath my boots as I rounded the SUV. The driver opened the back hatch, and there the asshole was. He appeared calm and unbothered at first, but when he turned his eyes and spotted me, they darkened with rage.
I smirked. “Oh, so it’s me you have something against, hm?” I taunted. Ace had been on to something when he’d suggested that. I made a tsking sound. “Today’s your lucky day, mother fucker. You now have my undivided attention.” Grabbing his ankles, I tugged him out the back, grinning when his back made a sickening thud with the concrete. Beckoning over two of our men, I ordered, “Get him in the basement. Tie him up. And drop the temperature.” I’d become a fan of keeping enemies in freezing cold temps after Niran had done it to Rico’s father and half-brother when they’d kept Bento in a meat freezer and had damn near killed him.
“I want to talk to Maksim,” Rurik told me.
I arched a brow at him. “Why?” I demanded.
Rurik rolled his eyes. “Because I finally got answers out of Anatoly, and he deserves to know why he was put on a job that could have very well killed him. I don’t agree with what Anatoly did, but from a professional standpoint, I get it.”
I huffed an unamused laugh. “And you think you’re talking to him about that without me present? You’ve lost your fucking mind, Tarasov. I want to know as well. Because quite frankly, while you’re growing on me—” Rurik smirked and mimed putting his hand over his heart and swooning, which made me snort a laugh— “I don’t fucking like Balakin.”
Rurik shrugged. “Not many people do, honestly. He’s tolerated. But I understand his callous ways. Psychopaths tend to notice each other.”
I grunted. “You can talk to him, but only with me present.”
Rurik nodded. “I expected no less.”
We made our way to the porch, where Maksim had obediently stayed. I gripped the back of his neck and pressed a kiss to his lips. And fuck the way he sank into me was goddamn addictive. Remembering Rurik wanted to talk to him and I had a man to torture, I forced our lips to part, then squeezed the back of his neck. “Rurik wants to talk to you.”
Maksim turned his gaze on Rurik, his cheeks flushed and his lips wet and kiss-swollen. Rurik smirked but didn’t comment. He just said, “Maybe we could go inside and sit down?”
Maksim looked at me, and I nodded. Grabbing his hand in mine, I led them both inside. Niran, who was sitting in the living room with Bento, who was watching TV with Anurak, looked up and grunted. “Who let the trash in?” he asked, deadpan.
“Oh, sorry—just thought I’d blend right on in,” Rurik retorted, one side of his mouth curved into a smile. Bento, the fucking dimwit, laughed as well.
“We need the room,” I told Bento.
Bento nodded and quietly said something to Anurak before leading Anurak toward Rico’s office. Niran remained seated, watching as Rurik took a seat in one of the arm chairs. Maksim and I sat on the loveseat together. I reclined back, getting comfortable, but Maksim remained perched on the edge, like he didn’t know if he wanted to hear what Rurik had to say or run and remain ignorant.
“Anatoly never wanted Alfonzo dead because it would start a war Anatoly did not want,” Rurik said, diving right in. “But he did want more information on Alfonzo. You fit Alfonzo’s type perfectly—a bit soft, a bit sweet. Strong when you needed to be but would prefer to submit rather than lead. He wanted you to get close and see what you might find out since he knew you’d never be able to catch Alfonzo off-guard in order to kill him.”