Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
With that done, I have one more loose end to clean up. I need to know why she opened the door.
Stalking back into the house, I stampede toward the servant’s quarters. By the time I make it down the stairs, I’m seething with anger. “Where is she?” I demand, my voice a low, dangerous growl. “Where the hell is she?”
Nobody answers. They all know better than to get in my way when I’m like this.
I’m tearing through the hall, disrupting everything in my path. I feel like a tornado smashing through a building; nothing is safe from my reach.
My pulse races and my breath comes in heaving gasps as I frantically search for her. I fling open the door to her room and then the closet, throwing clothes to the ground in a crumpled heap. The air is thick with rage and desperation as I step back out and cast my gaze around the room.
“Where are you?” I yell out into the stillness, my voice echoing off the walls.
I’ll tear this house apart in my search for her.
The furniture is no match for my fury; it’s smashed to pieces in seconds.
Behind the curtain, something moves. When I pull back the thick fabric, she’s there, cowering and shaking.
I take a deep breath, my heart still pounding against my rib cage.
Nothing bad will happen to her, but she doesn’t know that.
I don’t hurt women, but I need to know if she’s working with the Russians. If she’s a traitor.
“Why?” I ask.
“S-she wanted to leave.” A tear slips down her face before she swipes it away.
“And you let her?”
She stands up taller, straightening her back, trying not to look scared. “I did.”
“Why would you unlock the door?”
“She didn’t deserve to be a prisoner here. She didn’t deserve to be hurt.” There’s a tremble in her voice, and something tells me she’s talking about something else.
“Did someone hurt you here?” I ask.
She looks away from me.
I take a step closer, and she flinches. “Someone hurt you here, and you were afraid that Sasha would be hurt, so you let her out?”
“Yes.”
A tiny sliver of my anger dissipates with that knowledge. If I’d known, I would’ve taken care of it. Nobody messes with women and children in my ranks. Not without forfeiting their lives.
“Not that I have to explain anything to you, but Sasha was here for her safety. There are very bad men wanting to hurt her, and now she no longer has protection. If she dies, her blood is on your hands.”
“I thought—”
My hand flies up to stop her words. “I don’t care what you thought. You were wrong. I love Sasha and would never hurt her.” I take a deep breath, seeing the woman cower once more. If I want information from her, I’ll need to calm my tone. She’s clearly shaken. “Now, tell me who hurt you, and I’ll deal with them. You’re under my protection too.”
She nibbles on her lip before nodding. “Sean.”
That fuck. If I hadn’t already killed him, I would do it all over again.
“You don’t have to worry about him again.” Her eyes go wide, and she looks like she may say more, but I’m already out of the room. She can stay, or she can go. She thought she was protecting Sasha, and she won’t be punished for that.
Now I need to figure out where she is. My mind is going a million miles per minute. I already sent men over to her place. They should be getting there shortly.
Which basically leaves me standing here holding my dick in my hand like an idiot.
Just as I’m about to leave and head into the city to start my own search, my phone rings.
Cyrus is calling. “Speak to me,” I answer.
“It’s an offshore account. Set up by Roman Lennox. It’s in Sasha’s name.”
“Fuck. How much?”
“Twenty-eight million.”
Fuck. There’s an account in Sasha’s name with twenty-eight million dollars that Roman stole from the Russian mob. She had the money this whole time; she just didn’t know it.
“They want something.” That’s what Roman had said.
They wanted their money, and Sasha had the numbers inside her cello the whole time.
The cello was a gift from Roman. When he finally started to make money.
She assumed he meant when he came to work with Tobias all those years ago, but the whole time, he was referring to the job with the Russians. The money he was slowly funneling out and placing in an account for her.
Fuck.
This is fucking bad.
She’s in danger and doesn’t even know how big a danger it is.
Just as I’m about to ask Cyrus another question, a text comes through.
Julian
She’s not here, but someone was.
Gideon
You sure?
Julian
Her window was open.
“Fuck!” I bellow, forgetting Cyrus is still on the line.
“What’s going on?” His voice echoes in my ear.
“My girl’s gone.” My teeth grind together.