Total pages in book: 143
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 134663 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 673(@200wpm)___ 539(@250wpm)___ 449(@300wpm)
With Rose’s leg thrown over my thighs, her face nestled close to my neck, my arm holding her to me, I stare down at her hand splayed on my chest, the sparkles of the diamond ring twinkling madly everytime I inhale and make her hand rise slightly. Just seeing that ring on her finger does things to me that I could never explain. We’re doing something neither of us ever imagined, and with it, we get everything neither of us ever imagined. Someone to love. Someone to keep. Someone to live for. Peace.
My mobile vibrates from the bedside table, and I reach for it, seeing a message from Brad asking if I’m joining him in the gym. I have no desire to work out. Here is where I want to stay, yet I know I need to talk to him. To update him. I fire off a quick reply telling him I’m on my way and start to gently negotiate Rose from my body, smiling when she clings to me in her sleep.
“I’ll be back,” I tell her softly, stroking her hair off her face and placing a light kiss on her cheek. I go to the wardrobe where Esther has stored my clothes and pull on some gym kit, slip my feet into my trainers, and head out to find Brad. On my way down the stairs, Rose’s mobile rings, and I look down to see “Mom” lighting up the screen. I come to a stop and lower myself to a step, answering. But I don’t speak. Neither does he. We’re just breathing down the line at each other, wisps of air full of threats and danger. Just hearing the arsehole breathe prickles my skin, anger rising.
“So they call you The Brit?” he finally says, his accent thick.
“I prefer the Angel-faced Assassin.”
“I prefer dead.”
“Many do.” I ensure my breathing in steady and quiet, tamping down the heightened rage just hearing his voice has instigated. “Shame many will be disappointed,” I go on. “You’ve tried and failed to kill me three times. I’m invincible, Dimitri. You’re out of your depth.”
He inhales. “You killed my father. My brother.”
“Why do you care? You’re illegitimate. The baby of a whore your father fucked.”
“Yes, my mother was a paid fuck. No, Marius didn’t know about me. But we connected. He recognized my capabilities before I did. Call me sentimental, but I’m really quite sad you stole my chance of having a relationship with my father.”
It’s all I can do not to roll my eyes. He’s out for vengeance? Trying to keep his father’s name alive while building his? “Thanks for the sob story.”
“The girl,” he practically growls.
“You’re not getting her.”
“She has no choice if she wants her son to live.”
Breathe. Breathe. Breathe. “And what would you say if I told you I want to keep her?”
“I’d ask why.”
I don’t need to tell him. He knows. “You want the marina. You want Adams. You want the Russians. You want my guns and contacts.” I wet my lips, noting his silence. “You want power, Dimitri. But do you know what you don’t want?”
He’s silent, his ego not prepared to ask.
“You don’t want me hunting you down, because if you don’t take what I’m offering, that’s exactly what I’ll do.” My promise is thick with malice that no wise man should ignore. “And it will be my most brutal murder yet. Ernie is gone. His money is gone. Your options are limited, you sick arsehole.” Fuck, this kills me, making a deal with this slimy, wannabe piece of shit, but I have to face the facts. He knows where Rose’s boy is. That’s his ace card, like she said. It’s all he has. But it’s all he needs. “It’s just you and me and the Russians. It could be only you if you make the right choice.”
“All for the girl?”
“All for the girl,” I confirm, cementing the fact that he probably thinks I’ve lost my mind. “I want out. You want in. Do we have a deal?”
“Talk.”
I glance up when I hear footsteps, delicate footsteps that belong to Esther. She stops when she spots me sitting on the stairs. Her blue eyes look sorrier each time I look into them. “Call me in an hour. We’ll talk.” I hang up and rise to my feet, though they seem rooted to the marble step, preventing me from walking away.
“Ernie’s dead?” she asks, her hands joining in front of her midriff, nervously playing. “You killed him?”
I’m thrown, not just by the question, but because she’s asked me a question. She never speaks unless she’s spoken to. Hasn’t since the day Pops brought her to the mansion. “Yes,” I answer simply, instead of ranting at her for obviously listening in on conversations that don’t concern her. “Why?”
She visibly relaxes, her tense shoulders lowering a good few inches. “He can’t hurt me?”