Total pages in book: 53
Estimated words: 52062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 52062 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 260(@200wpm)___ 208(@250wpm)___ 174(@300wpm)
And I know who.
I turn from the window and face my oldest friend. Dmitri has been by my side since we were boys running through the streets of Moscow, stealing bread and dodging fists. We rose through the ranks together. Bled together. Buried men together. There is no one I trust more in this world.
He’s sitting in the leather armchair by the fire, his broad frame relaxed but his eyes sharp. Always sharp. That's what makes him invaluable. Dmitri sees everything and misses nothing.
"Do we know for sure it was The Wolf who sent him?" he asks.
Yuri “The Wolf” Orlova. Pakhan of the Orlova Bratva. Ruthless. Emotionless. Soulless.
He’s a part of The Six.
Someone I know very well.
"It was him,” I say, moving to the chair across from Dmitri.
"Holly witnessing you eliminate the threat is going to make your plan a lot harder to execute," he says.
"The plan is still on track. We took a detour. That's all. But we're exactly where we need to be."
He raises an eyebrow. “You've got her locked up in your lodge. She hates you. She's terrified of you. And she watched you put a bullet in a man's skull less than twenty-four hours ago." He pauses. "Not exactly the foundation for what you have in mind."
"Fear fades," I say. "Hatred can be redirected. And what she saw yesterday? That just proves I'm a man who protects what's his."
"And if she doesn't cooperate?"
"She will."
"You sound confident."
"I am."
He shakes his head slowly, the ghost of a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You always did like a challenge."
I think of Holly. Of the fire in her eyes when she told me to go to hell and called me an asshole. The way she lifted her chin and squared her shoulders even though she was trembling.
One thing I know for sure, Holly might not be a pushover, but she is vulnerable. Recently dumped by the man she was dating. No luck previously with men.
Breaking her will be easy.
"So what's the plan?" Dmitri asks. "Now that you have her?"
“Exactly what it’s been since I learned of her existence.” I turn back to Dmitri, and I know my smile is cold. It’s the smile of a man who has already seen the end of the chess match while everyone else is still studying the opening moves. "I'm going to marry her.”
11
HOLLY
I don't see Nikolai until dinner.
He’s standing by the fireplace in the dining room when I come down the stairs. He's traded the custom suit for dark dress pants and a black sweater that hugs his frame in ways that should be illegal. The polished mobster is gone, replaced by something more dangerous—a man who looks almost normal.
A man who would turn my head in the real world.
The dining room is nothing like the cavernous space where we had breakfast. This is intimate. A small table set for two beside a roaring fireplace, with flickering candles, and wine glasses that catch the firelight and throw it back in ruby sparks.
I hover in the doorway, suddenly very aware that we're about to have dinner together like this is a date instead of a hostage situation.
"Holly." Nikolai's voice is warm, his smile dangerous.
He pulls out a chair for me, and after a moment's hesitation, I sit, while he settles into the chair opposite me.
"I hope you're hungry."
I shouldn't be. I’ve been eating like I’m training for a food eating contest all day thanks to Katya.
But on the table, are two plates of beef stroganoff that smell so incredible my mouth waters instantly.
“It smells delicious,” I say. I already know it tastes delicious because Katya insisted I sample it earlier. But I don’t tell Nikolai that, or about hanging out with Katya and Andrei in the kitchen most of the day because I’m pretty sure it’s something he wouldn’t approve of.
I pick up my fork and take a bite.
“Oh my God,” the words burst out of me before I can stop them. The stroganoff tastes even better than before when Katya insisted I taste test it.
The beef is tender, the sauce is rich and creamy, and the mushrooms are perfectly seasoned. It's the kind of meal that makes you close your eyes and forget everything else exists.
When I open them again, Nikolai is watching me with an amused expression.
"Good?" he asks.
"Amazing," I admit. "Katya is a magician."
"She is." He takes a sip of his wine.
I reach for my own wine glass and take a sip and—sweet baby Jesus, the wine is out of this world. Smooth and full-bodied, with notes of dark cherry and something earthy that makes my taste buds sing.
I put down my glass and try not to act like I’ve just tasted heaven.
Instead, I focus on the stroganoff and try not to make assumptions in my head of what happens next.