Total pages in book: 18
Estimated words: 17724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 17724 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 89(@200wpm)___ 71(@250wpm)___ 59(@300wpm)
She was so confident last night, so beautiful. In her sleep, she murmured the word love. And that was what made me decide to leave. If I heard that word from her when she was lucid, I wouldn’t be able to abandon her. I’d stick close, risk her life.
Maybe next time, Oleg will start shooting. Maybe she’ll catch a bullet.
I meant what I said in the note. A day with her is a lifetime of emotion. She pierced me, changed me.
How can I go back to who I was before?
But I can’t ask her to run away with me. To leave her home unfinished, her mother’s final wish unfulfilled. It wouldn’t matter anyway.
As long as Nikolai is alive, she’ll always be in danger.
If she’s with me.
The only way to keep her safe is to leave … or to kill Nikolai.
But he’s holed up in his headquarters. I haven’t found a way in that doesn’t mean all-out war.
I’m tough, always have been. But can I take on the Bratva’s army single-handled?
I climb into the car. Start the engine.
But there’s a mental block inside of me. Like one more mile, hell, one more inch away from Rose will destroy me forever.
I close my eyes for a moment and foresee two futures.
In one I’m with Rose. She’s wearing some hip-hugging jeans with a pencil tucked behind her ear, giving directions to her assistants as she transforms a house into a home.
In the other, she’s with another man. His hand wrapped around her.
Maybe she could be happy. Maybe she could forget about me.
But I’ll never forget about her.
And deep in the recesses of my soul, a place that was bleak and dark before her, I know she’d be happier with me. That I’d work my ass off to give her the life she deserves.
I grip the steering wheel so hard my knuckles turn white.
I’m not running.
Which means I have to fight.
I was worried about storming the headquarters before.
But that was before I had Rose as my motivation.
I park up two blocks from The Iron Cellar. I’ve already put my bulletproof vest on. I’m wearing a thick jacket packed with weapons. Guns, knives, a pair of gloves with knuckle dusters woven into the fabric.
Any time doubt tries to grip me, I think of Rose. I think about giving her the chance to pursue her dreams without the shadow of the Bratva hanging over us.
I think of the way she moans and smiles and the confidence that flooded into her last night… confidence I want to see again.
Climbing from the car, I stalk down alleyways, hands twitching.
This could be the last thing I ever do.
Two guards flank the doors, tattoos crawling all over their bodies. A little shorter than me, but still ready for a fight.
I walk directly up to them. Sergei tilts his head.
“I thought you were in hiding,” he says.
“I’m here for blood,” I growl, glancing at Viktor. “I’m here for Nikolai. I’m giving you a fair warning. Get out of here before the shooting starts or you’ll lie in the ground with the Pakhan.”
Sergei spits. “And if we don’t?”
I straighten up. For almost a minute, the men study me in silence. Weigh up how serious I am. Weigh up if I have what it takes to do this.
Only a madman would storm the Cellar alone.
“Fuck this,” Viktor grunts, ducking his head and walking away.
Sergei holds his hands up. “I was on a smoke break. That’s my story.”
“If you shoot me in the back when I walk in there, you better kill me.”
Sergei’s face goes ghostly pale.
My reputation has its benefits.
I push into the bar, keeping my back to the wall as I stalk down the hallway. From the main room, men laugh and cheer. A bottle smashes. Somebody shouts something in Russian.
So far, so good.
I round the corner that leads to Nikolai’s office.
Stop dead in my tracks.
A big bear of a man, wearing a T-shirt with a white skull on it, coarse hair covering his arms, standing at the edge of the hallway. Sharpening a knife that looks like a toy in his hands. Artem, one of the most fucked-up men in the Bratva, the sort of prick who’d jump at the chance to do what Nikolai tried to force me to do.
My heart pounds loudly in my ears.
Before Rose, I’d turn back. There’s a long corridor between us. If I just shoot him in the head, I’ll lose the surprise factor I’ve managed to create for myself, so far.
I picture Rose, her dress clinging to her curvy form. The furrow in her brow as she determinedly digs for the pool. The passion in her voice when she talks about fulfilling her mother’s dream.
Then I duck my head and run like a bull.
Artem roars when he hears my footsteps. Raises his gun.
Before he can fire a shot, I grab his wrist. Crack. Bone snaps as I wrench him upward, then I headbutt him so hard I see stars.