Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79326 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 397(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Baron releases a hoarse laugh and nuzzles into my neck. “Damn. That was so hot. You make me crazy, Lara.”
The pleasure of his appreciation mingles with the high from my multiple orgasms.
I hate to admit it, but I might be falling for my husband.
I’m addicted to being touched by him. Fascinated by watching him.
A knock sounds at the door, and Baron stiffens and pulls out. “Yeah?” He hurls himself off the bed and picks up the side of the bedspread to sweep it in a swift arc over my naked body.
Leo’s voice sounds from the other side. “Baron, the cops are here. They don’t have a warrant, but they’re asking for you.”
Chapter Seventeen
Baron
Fuck.
I yank on a pair of jeans and shove my phone with my ID in the back pocket. “Let them in,” I call through the closed door. “We’ve got nothing to hide. Everything was on the up and up.” I tug a T-shirt over my head and throw the door open.
“Okay,” Leo answers. “You coming down?”
“Right behind you.” I shut the door again, remembering the state I left my wife in.
I climb back on the bed and kiss her temple. “I’m sorry. I’ll be back as soon as I can. Do you need help removing the plug?”
Lara sits up, looking deliciously mussed. Her eyes are glassy and bright, her face is flushed, and her bedhead is spectacular. Her eyes are wide. “I’ve got it. You go.”
I kiss her swollen lips and jam my feet into a pair of flip flops to run downstairs. Eight cops are scattered through the downstairs, walking around like they’re looking for something.
I jog down the stairs. It’s just past two in the morning. I heard the music go off about ten minutes ago. Any party-goers who remained are now streaming out the doors as fast as they can. My house members are all gathered, my soldiers standing at attention.
Except they all look worried. I don’t want any of them to worry about this–whatever it is. I can handle it.
“I’m Benjamin Baranov,” I say to the first cop I see, trying to project calm authority. “How can I help you?”
“Mr. Baranov, do you mind if we have a look around the premises?”
“No warrant,” Leo mutters as a reminder to me. His dad, Maxim, is my dad’s fixer. He knows the laws and how to avoid getting caught or how to get out of any situation.
“May I ask what you’re looking for?” I ask.
“We’re doing a wellness check on the party-goers in the house.”
My brows fly up. “Wellness check?”
Does that mean they’re checking for drug use?
The police officer doesn’t respond. He and his partner walk through the rooms of the house, looking into the faces of the guests rushing out, stopping the more inebriated ones to ask questions.
I trail along. “May I ask what this is about?”
They ignore me, and one of them attempts to open one of the first-floor bedroom doors. “What’s in here?” He knocks on the door.
“That’s a bedroom.” I raise my brows. Someone could be sleeping in there, for all he knows. There’s someone beautifully naked behind my bedroom door.
The thought of them knocking on that door makes me grind my teeth. I need to warn Lara if they make their way upstairs.
“Can you unlock it for me?” the cop asks.
It’s Alex’s room. My thumbprint will open the door, but I look around for Alex.
“I’m right here.” Alex steps up to my side.
“They want to look in your room.”
He gives me an oblique look and shrugs, then unlocks the door and pushes it open. One cop goes inside and another asks for the next door to be opened.
“You’re Benjamin Baranov?” A detective asks, entering the living room. He shows me his detective badge.
“I am.”
“Come with me, please.”
Anya and Zoe stand together, hovering. Glaring at the cops. Clearly worried.
I show them I have this under control. “Am I under arrest?”
“Not yet. We’d just like to ask you some questions down at the station.”
Fuck. Fine. The sooner I find out what they’re looking for, the better.
“All right. Let’s go.” I spread my hands.
“I’ll call Lucy,” Zoe says, meaning my mom.
“No one calls Chicago,” I order.
My mom is the best criminal defense attorney in the state, but the last thing I want is to wake her in the middle of the night with the news that the police took her son to the station for questioning. All my life, she’s tried to keep me out of the bratva business. When Lili and I got dragged into the violence as children, it rocked her marriage to my dad. They recovered, but it was part of me getting sent away to Swiss boarding school. I showed too much interest in the business.
Calling my mom will be a last resort.
I’ve got this covered. They have nothing on me; otherwise, I’d be in handcuffs with my rights being read to me.