Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
I’m dying. Want to come and nurse me back to health?
And you were saying you weren’t dramatic?
Only sometimes and in small doses.
Nothing you do comes in small doses.
Guilty as charged. And I’m glad you noticed I’m packing, baby. So are you, by the way. Speaking of packing, when will you finally let me fuck you?
Like hell you will. It’ll be the other way around.
I’m not a natural bottom, so this will be a tough competition.
How do you know?
How do I know what?
Whether or not you like to fuck or to be fucked. Have you tried both?
Nah. Told you, I’ve only ever been the one who fucks, not really into the concept of letting someone else take charge, but I might allow it with you if you talk REAL dirty to me and call me baby or, better yet, give me a Russian nickname. Actually, you have to do both. You also need to win against me in a fight—if I pin you beneath me, I’m fucking you, don’t care. Also, no running away after sex, or I’ll hunt you the fuck down.
Too many rules.
I’m not done.
No?
No. I’ll prepare a list.
A whole list?
Uh-huh. And even that’s not enough. You should be honored I even offered you my ass, Mishka. I only reserve the special treatment for you.
My lips twitch, but then I narrow my eyes at the phone.
What if he told others the exact same words?
Yulian is a flirt, an incorrigible one, but I’ll eradicate that bad habit of his.
I’m about to type a threat when Mom walks out on the balcony, carrying a tray with two coffees.
“I made these myself.” She smiles, placing the tray on the table and sitting across from me.
Her blond hair that brushes her shoulders shifts with the wind. She looks striking in black pants and a blue shirt, though the lines etched into her face since a couple of days ago haven’t faded.
Mom has always been my biggest cheerleader—the one who urged me to chase my dreams, even hinted that I didn’t have to stay tied to this world if I didn’t want to. She once told me I could go live with my uncles in Russia, inherit her half of the empire, and carve out a life shielded from constant scrutiny and needless violence.
And while I love her care, there’s no other option for me. I’d never leave her and Dad to fend for themselves like an ungrateful bastard.
I slide the phone into my pocket. “You didn’t have to go to the trouble.”
“It was no trouble at all. Also, you don’t have to hide your conversation from me.”
“It’s not important.”
“I haven’t seen you smile like that while texting in…well, forever, so I think it might be a tiny bit important.”
I was…smiling? Fuck, I didn’t even notice it myself.
Clearing my throat, I take a sip of the coffee and stare out from the balcony. “It’s really nothing, Mom.”
“Well, if it turns into something, I’d like to meet the girl who’s making my son smile like that.”
My fingers tighten around the cup as I give a noncommittal nod. “By the way, is there anything new on the investigation?”
“Nothing really.” She grabs her cup, a furrow appearing in her brow.
“Surely, you don’t believe Dimitriev is behind this like Uncle Kyle is saying?”
“No, but he had an agenda that night.”
“How do you know?”
“He said it himself to your father, Markov, and the leader of the Seattle branch. If any of them were to offer an alliance with him via marriage, he’d offer shares in a prestigious medical empire he’s invested in.”
My heart thunders, and I place the cup down, so I don’t spill the coffee.
“Marriage?” I’m surprised I sound composed enough, considering the chaos brewing inside me.
“Yes, through his daughter.”
Oh. It’s Alina, not Yulian.
Fuck. It’s Alina.
I doubt Yulian knows anything about this or he’d go berserk.
The sad reality of political marriages in our world is probably something that will never go away, and I’m not sure how Yulian can stop his father from sending Alina down that path sooner or later.
“What did Dad say?” I ask.
“That Yaroslav can go fuck himself, and his son isn’t for sale.”
I smile. Sounds like Dad all right.
“Did either of the other two take Yaroslav up on his offer?” I ask.
“Not that I know of, no. I’d be worried about the poor girl if that were the case.”
Me, too, Mom. Me, too.
But I’d also be concerned about what the hell Yulian would do when the time comes, and Yaroslav does marry her off.
Knowing him, he’d clash with his father and come out with worse injuries and bruises. Maybe he’d do something radical that would get him seriously hurt…
My thoughts trail off when I realize I’m worried about Yulian.
I’m actually scared something will happen to him.
I’m royally fucked.
22
YULIAN
Someone is still playing hard to get.
It’s been about a week since I came back to the island, and he still hasn’t graced me with his infuriating presence.