Series: Series by Ker Dukey
Total pages in book: 112
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 107407 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 537(@200wpm)___ 430(@250wpm)___ 358(@300wpm)
Once we’re alone in the bar, a delivery driver finally arrives clutching two bags of fast food. I eagerly take it from him and shove a wad of cash in his hand.
I start to unwrap the first burger before he’s even left, when Rodion interrupts.
“Do you think we should check in with Alyona?” he asks unexpectedly, his voice cutting through my hunger.
Usually, I can read Rodion’s thoughts and emotions better than I understand my own, but this question completely throws me off balance.
“Do you want to check in on her?” I respond, my curiosity piqued, wondering what has shifted in his mind. The anger and disappointment I feel toward her is still simmering under my skin.
Before he can answer Viktor steps into the bar, his arms outstretched in a welcoming gesture. “So, it’s all yours,” he declares with a broad smile, his eyes flashing with enthusiasm. Like us, Viktor, clad in a perfectly tailored Tom Ford suit and tie, always takes pride in his appearance and exudes sophistication.
“Thanks to you.” Rodion raises a glass.
“It was your money,” Viktor responds with a playful grin, shrugging his shoulders.
“Burger?” I offer, gesturing to the mountain of fast food.
Looking over my offering with a furrowed brow, he says, “I’m surprised to see you indulging in junk food.”
“I don’t typically make a habit of it,” I admit, chuckling lightly, “but when in Rome…” I trail off, taking another huge bite of my burger as he roams his gaze over my physique.
Where Rodion likes to fuck his feelings out, I tend to eat mine.
Taking a seat on the barstool beside Rodion, Viktor tilts his head thoughtfully. “By the way, I heard about Jeremiah and Adam.”
“Unfortunate news.” I scoff, finishing my burger in two bites.
“The woman?” Viktor queries.
“A gift from your father,” I say, swiping my hand across his mouth, my voice dripping with disdain.
Viktor’s jaw flexes, his otherworldly amber eyes sparking bright. “I see.”
“Apparently, she’s not the only one who was sent here to spy on what we’re doing with the club,” Rodion informs him as I move around the bar to pour us drinks.
“I’ll look into it,” he says, his tone steady. “The police chief, Stanton, also owes me a favor.” He leans back slightly, his gaze focused. “So, if there’s anything that needs to be swept away regarding this situation, just let me know.”
I hesitate, not wanting to delve into how that favor came to be, but I nod in acknowledgment, appreciating the offer. “That’s good to know.”
Suddenly, Rodion interjects with a sharpness in his tone. “Did you know about Alyona’s child?” The question is jarring and hangs between us. I can see confusion flicker across Viktor’s face as he turns to Rodion.
“What about her?” he asks, a look of bewilderment crossing his features as he glances back and forth between us, clearly trying to piece together the implications of Rodion’s inquiry.
"So, you did know she existed,” I say, my expression darkening, revealing more than it should.
“I did, but I didn’t realize there was something between you and her when Alyona arrived here,” he says, his tone neutral but eyes narrowing with intrigue.
“We trained her and fucked her, that’s all,” I reply bluntly, sliding the drinks across the bar toward them, the glasses clinking against each other. I fucking wish that was all.
“If you say so,” Viktor replies, a sly grin spreading across his face, his amusement evident as he leans back, clearly enjoying the unexpected turn of the conversation.
“We do,” Rodion adds, crossing his arms and nodding in my direction.
As if we had just summoned her by mentioning her name, Viktor raises an eyebrow at the sound of his phone ringing. “Speak of the she-devil,” he taunts mockingly. “Ally, sweetness, what do you need from me? I can provide you with a wide array of services.”
Rodion and I exchange uneasy glances, tension coursing through us at the casual way he addresses her, fully aware that he’s only trying to provoke a reaction. His dark, playful smile fades in an instant as he gets to his feet and begins pacing back and forth.
“Hold on. I'm coming over.” His tone is no longer flirtatious but concerned. Ending the call, a cloud comes over his eyes as he says, "There’s something wrong with her."
All the anger, the hate and confusion over what I feel about her evaporates at his words. Flashes of her wounds flicker in my brain, and then of the assassinated woman in her house, and then of a little girl I can’t even put a face to, and all that’s left inside me is an overwhelming need to get to them.
Chapter Twenty
Rodion
We rush out of the bar and almost collide with the doorman, Roman, who is more than an hour late for the staff meeting. His tall, broad frame stands in contrast to his youthful, rounded cheeks complete with dimples. His hair is a tangled mess of unkempt waves, and he is wearing a gray tracksuit and worn-out trainers. Who shows up to meet their new boss dressed like an out-of-work slob?