Nobody Wants Me (Volkov Bratva #5) Read Online Sam Crescent

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Billionaire, Erotic, Virgin Tags Authors: Series: Volkov Bratva Series by Sam Crescent
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Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79087 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
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And then, she hit me, but this time it was harder. I reacted, shoving my whole body against her. I don’t know how it happened, but I was not the one on top. The Butcher had made sure we hit the sofas, she had my arms above my head and pinned down. I felt the strength in her body.

She was like a rock. And she was heavy.

“Do not lose your temper,” she said. “That is a surefire way to lose every single time.”

“Get off me.”

“No, you’ve got to learn to take the hits. You want me to help you, then I will, but that will require you accepting pain. Do you think you can handle that?”

The alternative was not good. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing. Victor was out there right now, dealing with men and women who wanted to kill me.

“Yes,” I said.

“What?” The Butcher asked, tilting her head to the side, as if she didn’t hear me, but I knew she had.

This pissed me off.

“Yes, I heard you.”

The Butcher smirked. “Did anyone ever tell you that you’ve got a short temper?” she asked.

I did not find this funny.

“No, I’m usually very patient and calm.”

“Perhaps when you’re sewing and doing your stuff, but take you out of your comfort zone, and you’ve got a little anger management problem.”

She tutted and climbed off the sofa, holding out her hand. The petty side in me wanted to push that hand away. I was the one to ask her for help, not the other way around, so I took the hand she offered and got to my feet.

“Now, while we’re inside, I want you to focus on blocking me. That is all we’re trying to do. Block. Not hit.”

“I think hitting would be fun,” I said.

The Butcher laughed. “Don’t worry, I will let you hit me at some point, but until then, you’ll have to learn to take it.”

She never hit me hard, but even the light taps were enough to drive me crazy. There were several points where I wanted to scream at her, but I knew she was just trying to help me. Slowly, and it did feel achingly painful, I started to finally get it.

At no point did she let up. She made me work for it, and I don’t know how it happened, but I eventually started to dodge the slaps. My face had started to hurt, so I no longer had a choice but to try and pull away. I’m not exactly sure how long we’d been working at this, but eventually The Butcher nodded and stepped back.

“That’s good for today,” The Butcher said.

“What? Why?” Was she going easy on me? My face stung from all of the slaps, but I didn’t want her to think of me as a weakling that couldn’t take it. My life was in danger.

She shrugged. “We’re not in a rush.”

“My life is in danger. I’m stranded on an island because people are trying to kill me. Right now, I’d say that is very much a rush.”

“To get back home to be locked away in Victor’s house?” The Bucher asked.

“I wasn’t locked away. If I could go out ... I would.” I shrugged.

“I’m stopping, Freya, because even The Butcher has got to eat.” She smiled.

“Oh, yes, food, right. What are you fancying?” I asked. I’d taught myself to cook many years ago. Living alone on my father’s land, he wouldn’t allow me to hire a chef, so I taught myself.

“Anything you want to make.”

Going to the fridge, I opened it up. The Butcher had brought us back a fresh stock of supplies. Pursing my lips, I looked inside. There had been fresh as well as frozen food bought. The chicken breasts and parmesan looked so good. So, that is what I decided to go for.

Grabbing them, I got to work on making me a very not authentic chicken parmesan. As for The Butcher, I expected her to go and enjoy the view. Only, she came and sat at the kitchen counter, after grabbing herself a beer. I didn’t drink.

“Do you want one?” she asked.

“No, thank you. I’ll stick to soda.”

“So, what was it like to live with a multibillionaire father?” The Butcher asked.

This made me pause and frown.

“What?”

“You spent a lot of time with Harris. You’re twenty-five years old, and you’re rarely written about in the papers. No one knows who your mother is. Your dad went through a lot to protect you.”

“And now, he is the one making sure I’m killed.”

“Yeah, that part doesn’t make a whole lot of sense to me,” The Butcher said. “He went to a lot of trouble to keep your identity a secret, and then, it’s like, he needs you dead. I just wonder if you know something.”

I wiped my hand on a towel as I had just tenderized the chicken. “What are you saying? Do you think I know something about my dad?”


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