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)
“It’s beautiful,” I say, taking in the vast place.
“Let’s go look inside,” Z instructs. “We’ve only seen it in pictures.”
Entering the house, we wander around, taking it in. The spacious rooms flow seamlessly into one another. They each have high ceilings and large windows, and despite the heat outside, the place feels cool and homely.
“It came furnished,” I note, as I place the diaper bag on a large oak table and then take a seat on one of the chairs, tucking my leg beneath me.
“I wanted to be able to focus on the club and we can change anything we don’t like later,” Z tells me as he carries in Roza’s highchair and flips it open.
Rodion places her in it, taking her hand and blowing raspberries, which makes her giggle. It makes me drenched with guilt for depriving her of their devotion. There’s nothing like it in the world. I stole that from her for the first year of her life. I believe I did it for the right reasons, but it still feels shitty as hell.
“I’ll bring in the rest of her stuff,” he tells Z, ruffling Roza’s hair before he leaves.
Taking my hand to get my attention, Z squeezes. “You’re going to be safe here, both of you. I have a security company coming out first thing tomorrow morning to put in a state-of-the-art system. A fucking spider won’t be able to come onto the property without us knowing about it.”
I trust him, but we didn’t think anyone would reach us at their apartment either. All it took was one of Yuri’s henchmen to follow the maid there. I don’t want to live my life constantly worrying about who might be sneaking in our room in the dead of night.
I’m tired of worrying. Tired of cowering. So fucking tired.
I’ve made up my mind.
I’m going to kill Yuri Vasiliev.
Rosetta won’t return my calls or texts. It sucks that she’s the casualty in all this, but it’s her choosing to cut us off, not the other way around. A rush of awareness trickles down my spine before Rodion’s voice cuts through the room.
“She can have her own room, Alyona. The house has six bedrooms,” he tells me, looking around the room I chose for us. It has a queen bed and plenty of space for Roza’s crib that Z wasted no time putting up.
After placing my phone on the bedside table, I shrug and rub my hands down my sides to remove the clamminess. Rodion hasn’t said much to me apart from scolding me whenever I attempt to lift anything. There’s this tension, like he’s trying to be civil for the sake of Roza and my injuries, but he’s still pissed and doesn’t know how to juggle the two.
“I’ll just feel better with her in with me for now.” I look over at her sleeping form and put a finger to my lips pointing to the hallway.
Once outside the bedroom, I pull the door to, and he leans against the wall surveying me from head to toe. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” I slip my hands in the pockets of my shorts, so I stop fidgeting. “A lot better.” I add the last bit when he keeps staring at me as though I’m holding back my true feelings.
Why does this feel so awkward and forced? I hate it.
“Listen, I know this isn’t what we planned with the three of us forced back together like this.” His voice trails off, heavy with unspoken thoughts.
“It won’t be forever,” I finish for him, my stomach sinking.
I hate that I’ve needed them to come to my rescue nonstop. I’m a fucking burden. Dropping a kid on them, a dead boyfriend, and now I’ve moved into their new house. I know Z wants me here but Rodion, I’m not so sure.
The pulse in his jaw flickers with annoyance. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he tilts his head slightly. His demeanor is so effortlessly dominant that it makes me feel breathless beneath his unwavering attention.
“Do you honestly believe that?” The intensity in his voice leaves no room for hesitation, and before I can gather my thoughts to form a response, he continues. “Roza is ours. She belongs here with us.”
I didn’t know a few simple words could give me so much anxiety, but my heart starts to race.
Would he take her from me?
Pushing off the wall, he leans his imposing frame over mine, breath warm and alluring. He licks his lips slowly, a predatory gleam in his darkening eyes that sends a shiver down my spine and a pulse between my thighs.
Damn these fucking men.
“So, you better get used to living here,” he says with unnerving confidence. “Because it is forever, whether you want it to be or not.” The deep timbre of his voice rumbles from his vocal cords, each word laced with the promise or the threat. I can’t tell which and that both excites and terrifies me.