Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85156 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 426(@200wpm)___ 341(@250wpm)___ 284(@300wpm)
Yet, despite Vasya’s warning, I see more to him than that. And I like what I see. All of it.
Evgeny must feel me staring because his eyes slip to me, and the incredible sea green is warm and bright. The swirling in my chest expands until I feel it tingle in my fingers.
And then he smiles, his hand brushing mine.
Shit.
The word echoes through my head as I lean closer to him, breathe in his scent again, and revel in the power and strength of his body beside mine.
I am falling for him.
What the hell am I going to do?
17
EVGENY
“We can’t get a handle on them.”
The men across the table trade glances, and the speaker licks his lips, nervous.
Three hours ago, this C-suite hosted Kucher Enterprises’ executive board as we strategized to clinch the development contract with the city. We were so close I could taste it.
Then the news hit. Sokolinaya thugs ambushed two of my men outside a deli. One is dead, and the other is in the hospital. This time, a stray shot hit a civilian, stable but critical, and there’s no way to know whose gun fired it.
Now, Kucherov men have replaced the executive board, and anger and unease hang thick in the air.
“Why can’t we get a handle on them? How does he always know where we are and what we’re doing? Is he tracking us somehow?”
“All of us?” one echoes faintly.
The man falls quiet under my glare and drops his gaze.
“They are a second-rate group. Thugs, all of them, without any loyalty to the code, including Tsepov himself. Why can’t we put an end to this?”
The men around the table flinch when my fist slams into the tabletop. My voice rises with each word until it’s a roar.
“They’re using guerrilla tactics,” Vasya grumbles beside me. “How are we supposed to combat that?”
“So you’re telling me there’s no planning behind the attacks? Nothing we can track? These men have randomly found our men six times and managed to take advantage of six straight ‘coincidences’?”
Silence greets me, and no one will meet my eyes.
From the corner of my eye, I see the door open and my assistant lean in. Beside me, Dmitri rises to meet her, letting me focus on the problem at hand.
“I want an answer. Now!”
Voices spring up in the fading echo of my fist hitting the table again, a cacophony of ideas, frustrations, and finger-pointing. I’m about to yell for quiet when Dmitri’s shadow falls over me.
“Someone is on the phone for you,” he murmurs for my ears alone.
The look I give him could melt glass. “Are you really interrupting me right now with a call?”
“It’s Eva.”
“Eva?” I echo. “How did she get this number?”
“I gave it to her. In case she needs anything. But I told her not to call unless it’s an emergency.”
“Then why the hell is she calling? Why didn’t Ana tell her I was unavailable? This is not the time, Dmitri.”
People are starting to look our way. Others are whispering, trying to guess what my second is telling me.
“She won’t say, but Ana says she sounds upset.”
I glance at my assistant and see her mouth pinched into a thin, worried line.
“Damn it,” I hiss under my breath, hating that my first instinct is to run for the phone. My instinct should be to stay here and ensure we have a plan to deal with Tsepov and the Sokolinaya Bratva.
This is what I was afraid of. I cannot afford anything distracting me from my duties as pakhan. But I won’t be able to concentrate when I know Eva is upset and on the phone.
“Fuck!”
The room goes silent as I shove to my feet so fast the chair tips back, every eye on me.
“Find a fucking solution,” I snap and stalk from the room.
Ana hands me the phone and steps away quickly to avoid the blast of my temper.
“Why the fuck are you calling me at work?”
My question comes out harsh. I’m already angry, and now I’m furious with myself for putting Eva before Bratva business.
“I just don’t know who else to call. If I call the police, they’ll arrest Jordan, too. He already has a prior, and if they arrest him again, I don’t know what’s going to happen—”
Eva’s words pour through the line in a tumbling, breathless rush, each one running into the next.
“They’re—” Something crashes in the background, and Eva gasps at the same time a young voice cries out in fear.
“Eva, what’s going on?” Concern replaces anger in an instant and only grows when I don’t get an immediate answer. “Eva? Eva, answer me. What’s going on?”
“Jordan’s in trouble, and Katie’s with him. Those guys are back, and they’re here for Jordan. They’re trying to break in. We locked the door, but now we can’t get out, and they’re prowling around outside. They just threw a rock through the window.” She sucks in a deep breath. “Evgeny, I’m scared.”