Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104127 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
More than anything, I want to talk to him. To dig deeper into this man and his empire.
I know I said I’d wait for him to be arrested before I asked about my brother, but I can’t help it. The urge to speak when his guard seems to be down and his temper back under control is intense.
“I’ll let you get to your work and keep myself busy, but…”
His finger plays with the one loose strand of hair that fell in front of my face, and I’m momentarily distracted by the tenderness of the action.
I want him to stop, but at the same time, I don’t.
What the hell is wrong with me?
I hate the way I react to the gesture, but it’s like I’m trapped in quicksand. The harder I want to pull away, the more encased I become.
I let out a breath, and his eyes drop to my mouth. Nervously, I bite my lip, a habit I’ve always had. He tracks the movement, and I don’t miss how his throat bobs.
My heart is racing, but I keep still, willing myself to remain calm.
“But?” he prompts, and for a moment, I’m not sure what he’s asking me.
“Oh, I…wanted to talk.” The words are awkward and unsure, and I’m internally kicking myself.
“Is that so? I didn’t think you wanted to be anywhere near me,” he says with a smirk that I want to wipe off his handsome face.
“Forget it. I don’t want to talk to you,” I huff, and he full-on smiles.
“What, pray tell, did you want to talk about?”
I wait a beat, trying to determine whether I should refuse to answer and drop the subject for now, but my hesitation doesn’t last, and the words are blurted out without another thought.
“My brother. I still want to talk about Roman. That hasn’t changed.”
At my words, his hand drops, and he takes a step back. My irrational mind misses the loss at once. I want to step forward and close the space, but I shut that thought down as fast as it pops into my head.
Jeez, Sasha, is it possible to get Stockholm syndrome in one day?
He’s not kidnapping you, you idiot.
Well, not technically. But he’s not allowing me to leave, either.
My internal monologue has me questioning my damn sanity. I’m losing my grip, which doesn’t bode well for trying to escape. I need my wits about me.
“I don’t want to talk about Roman,” he grits out.
His swift denial rubs me the wrong way, and anger rises. How dare he keep me here and refuse to give me more answers? He claims I’m not a prisoner, but his actions say otherwise.
I take a deep breath and temper the rising anger bubbling inside me that’s threatening to explode.
Gideon needs to think I’m agreeable. That way, he lets his guard down.
I’m probably being stupid for escaping, but no way am I blindly giving up my life without answers.
I open my mouth and close it. I’m a fish out of water. A guppy trying to figure out how to breathe in this situation.
The problem is that despite my anger, I’m turned on.
I hate it.
Hate him.
I don’t understand why my body betrays me when he’s around. This is the guy who turned my brother into a degenerate. He broke apart the one piece of my family that I had left. He’s the devil, not my savior, and I need to remember that. Even if my actions, for now, don’t show it.
“Fine. But please, can you tell me what, if anything, you’ve learned about who’s after me?”
He sighs, head rolling back on his shoulders. “We don’t know much, Sasha. Whoever it is, they’re keeping a low profile. My guys are searching day and night, but so far, nothing substantial has come up.”
“Roman said they were looking for me?” I ask to keep him talking.
“Yes. He didn’t tell me who or why they were coming for you, but he was adamant that I look after you. So that’s what I’m doing.”
I nod, new thoughts circling in my mind. Thoughts about my brother and what the hell he could’ve been involved in.
Roman, what were you mixed up in?
What could be so bad that even this man doesn’t know? Better yet, what could they possibly want from me?
With every question and every minute that goes by, my dreams of Juilliard diminish, and it makes me want to throw up. It’s the one thing in my life I’ve always wanted. The thing I’ve worked toward forever, and it’s being taken away from me every second I stay here.
I need to be free. Free to live my life. Free to pursue my dreams.
Freedom is the key.
12
SASHA
When Gideon left, I’m sure he expected me to relax. To keep myself entertained by watching a movie. Maybe even curl up and read a good book.
That’s exactly the opposite of what I want to do.