Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 193(@300wpm)
They don’t move. I know because I crack an eye again. “Yob vas.” Fuck you.
“Ravil.” It’s Nikolai this time. “Why are you being a dick to her? She literally has done nothing to you. You kidnapped her and forced her to fall in love with you, and now you treat her like dirt?”
I snarl and sit up. “Who said she’s in love with me?”
Dima gives me an are you stupid look. “When her friend gets her rescued, she lies to make sure you don’t go down for it. Even after what you did. If that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”
“And now she’s reaching out to you. She came here to the building for birth class. She invited you to go see your goddamn baby swim around in utero, and you fucking ignore her? You’re being a govnosos.”
“I let her go.” In my head, it explains everything. “She wanted to be let go, and I let her go.”
Nikolai shakes his head. “Letting her go and being a govnosos are two different things.”
“She wanted you at that ultrasound,” Dima says. “Are you going to let her have this baby on her own?”
“That’s what she wanted.” I make a wide gesture with my hand, sloshing more Beluga over my chest. I hiss because it stings where it hits my sunburn.
“Jesus, Ravil, you’re getting burnt. Get off the fucking roof.” Dima speaks, but they both move in concert, grasping the sides of my chaise lounge and tipping it over, so I tumble off.
“Now you’re both dead,” I mutter, lumbering to climb to my feet, which takes more effort than I expected.
“You gotta sleep that shit off,” Nikolai says, ducking when I swing at him and catching my arm instead.
“And take a fucking shower.” Dima grabs my other arm.
I make a half-hearted attempt to shake them off. “Yob vas.” Cursing in Russian is about all I’m capable of at the moment.
“Trust me, boss, you’re gonna thank us later,” Nikolai says.
“No,” I mumble. “I won’t.” I stumble to the door. Or maybe they drag me. It’s hard to tell. There are stairs that are very difficult to navigate.
I’m not going to call Lucy. It’s fucking killing me, but I let her go. If I open that door again, I won’t stop. I’ll claim her as mine, and I’ll never, ever let go.
And Lucy’s not the type of woman who can be held. She can’t be kept.
She’s a bird, and she needs to—
I hit my bed with a thud, and then all thought disappears.
Chapter 20
Lucy
I was a fool. I was a fool to hope and wish and expect Ravil to show up at the ultrasound yesterday even though he didn’t answer my text.
And I’m an even bigger fool now.
But I don’t care.
The pain I felt when he didn’t come, the emptiness, made it all too clear.
I don’t want to do this alone.
Ravil is my baby’s father, and he’s going to be a damn good one. The evidence of that was everywhere, I just was too judgemental to see it. The loyalty of his men speaks to it. The way he handled the teenager in the pool. The soccer kid in the elevator. The way he’s supported and invested in all the businesses of his tenants.
And the most obvious—the way he treated me. Even as his prisoner, he treated me like gold. I was a pampered princess in that penthouse.
But that’s not why I’m going back.
I miss Ravil. I miss his touch. I miss his affectionate smile. I want to know him better, without judging this time. I want to hear about his awful childhood and comfort him instead of setting off his defenses.
I want to give something back to him after all he’s given to me.
I love him.
That’s reason enough.
No, he may not be the partner I would’ve picked if I got to pick a man out of a catalogue, but he’s perfect for me. I can’t imagine a man any better.
And I’m going to go get him.
With my suitcase packed, I take a cab to the Kremlin. It’s past nine and dark out, the city lights flashing on the windows as we drive by. I get out and pay the cab and walk into the lobby.
I don’t recognize the guard at the door. He has tattoos on his forearms, and he looks scary as hell. I swallow and lift my chin.
“I’m going up to the penthouse,” I tell him, trying to breeze past.
“Show me your keycard,” he says in a thick Russian accent.
I stop. Dammit. The upper floors require keycard entry to access in the elevator. Of course, I don’t have one. I lift my chin. “Tell Ravil I’m down here. Tell him I won’t eat until he comes to get me.”
The guy frowns. “Get out.”
Okay, apparently, he doesn’t know this baby is Ravil’s.
I pull out my phone. Fine. I’ll call Ravil myself. Not that I’m sure he’ll even answer.