Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 100416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100416 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 502(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“Wrong. So fucking wrong. You do not get to drink yourself to death, using me and everyone around you as an excuse while you do. That is where this road ends, Keira. It doesn’t stop at the bottom of this bottle, or the next, or the next. It ends with you in a coffin and every single fucking person who cares about you standing around as they lower it into the ground. Your brothers. Your sisters. Charlie. Me.”
She stared, trying to process. “It’s one fucking drink.”
“Lie to yourself if you must, but you will not lie to me.” His gaze flicked down to the cabinet she’d been hoping he would forget about, and he moved forward with purpose. “I thought withdrawal would be enough to deter you. I was wrong. If I have to assign you a babysitter to ensure you don’t backslide, I will do it. Do not think I won’t.”
It wasn’t a bluff. If he thought for a second that she was a danger, he’d ensure that she wouldn’t have access to anything resembling alcohol. Keira leaned back against the wall with a thud as Dmitri grabbed the remaining pair of bottles and set them on the counter next to the sink. She snarled. “God forbid your possession be in less than perfect working order.”
He muttered in Russian and poured the first bottle down the drain. Keira watched the clear liquid disappear and had the uncomfortable urge to drag her hands over the surface of the counter to drink whatever she could manage. Fuck me, I’m a mess.
It took less than two minutes to empty the two remaining bottles and wipe down the spilled vodka from the counter. Only then did he turn to her. “What do you want, Keira?”
Shock stole her breath for several long seconds. Had anyone since Devlin ever actually asked her that? It took two tries to find her voice. “I don’t know.”
His expression softened for a split second before he set his jaw. “You don’t want to be a possession? Fine. Figure out what you do want to do and go for it. Stop being a victim and fight.”
“I have no power!”
His eyebrows rose. “No power.” Dmitri huffed a laugh. “For fuck’s sake, Keira, you have more than you know and I’m a damn fool for telling you as much.”
Surely he didn’t mean…
She didn’t have power over him. That was absurd. He owned her as he was so fond of telling her. It wasn’t the other way around.
Except…
She’d seen Dmitri with nearly every member of her family, and he’d never acted around them the way he acted around her. Even as early as their second meeting, he’d indulged her, just a little. She dropped her arms to her side, letting the robe gape open. It was hardly indecent, but his gaze followed that slight bit of skin all the same. “You want me.”
“You’re stating the obvious. Again. Why? You know how to play the game, Keira. You’ve proven you have brain in that beautiful head of yours. It’s only that poison that dulls it.” He slashed a hand through the air toward the sink. “Choose now—perpetual victim or the role you were always meant to play.”
What game was he at now? She tried for a belligerent tone. “And what role is that.”
“My motherfucking queen.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Dmitri didn’t sleep. Instead, he went to his office and cued up the monitors surveying the rest of the house. The whole night had been one giant mistake, from climbing into bed with Keira to letting her convince him that it wasn’t too soon for sex to laying one of his most valued cards on the table.
He’d misplayed things badly.
He knew she wasn’t ready, but he’d let his own desires override his plans. Just like he had time and again when it came to Keira O’Malley. Following her into her room and finding that bottle at her lips had stopped his fucking heart. It didn’t matter that she would hardly drink herself to death tonight—if she took that sip, eventually she would. He might have threatened to put someone on her night and day, but the truth was that if she wanted alcohol or drugs, she’d find a way to get them no matter how tight the security.
The only thing that would stop her was if she made the choice herself.
He couldn’t make it for her. She was right—she wasn’t a possession that he could put in a glass box and only take out when it suited him. His life would be simpler if that was what he wanted from her, but he’d told her the truth. He didn’t want a toy. He wanted a queen to his king.
The problem was that he didn’t know if it was bait enough.
She wanted power. She’d as much as said it herself, but wanting something and being willing to take it were two very different things.