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)
I stand in the center of the room with Dimitri at my shoulder.
"Nikolai," Yuri says, his accent thick. "You bring me all the way to this mountain in the middle of winter." He spreads his hands in a gesture that's anything but friendly. "What is so fucking urgent it cannot wait?"
I move to the bar and pour myself a vodka. I don't offer him one. "Would you like to sit?"
"I am fine standing."
Of course he is. Standing gives him the illusion of control. Of dominance.
I take a slow sip of vodka and let the silence stretch between us.
Yuri's jaw tightens. Just barely. But I see it.
"I found your granddaughter."
“So I hear.”
“And I married her.”
His eyes narrow. "You know, I know. You made sure of it.”
My voice drops to something dangerous. "Then you will appreciate I mean it when I say, call off the hounds, Yuri, or I’m going to fucking kill you.”
“Mudak,” Ivan seethes beside him. Ivan Petrakov. A young gun who likes to think of himself as a pakhan in waiting. “You dare speak to Yuri The Wolf that way.”
I pin Ivan with a lethal look. “Call me mudak in my home again and I’ll cut out your tongue and make Yuri watch while you choke on it."
"Careful, Morozov,” Yuri warns.
“If you can’t keep your errand boy in line, then I will,” I tell him.
Beside Yuri, Ivan's jaw clenches so tight I can hear his teeth grind. His hand twitches toward his weapon before Yuri's subtle gesture stills him.
“You forget who you're speaking to, Nikolai," Yuri seethes, low and dangerous.
"I know exactly who I'm speaking to." I let the words hang in the air. "I'm speaking to a dead man if you don’t leave Holly the fuck alone.”
Yuri stares at me, his face a mask of stone. Then, slowly, he starts to laugh. It's a cold, mirthless sound that echoes off the walls.
“You stupid fool. You tasted poisoned pussy and now you’re whipped.”
"No, Yuri, I'm not whipped. I'm fucking married. And this is my home. My mountain. My rules. Insult my wife again, and they'll be carrying pieces of you down this mountain in garbage bags. The Six be fucking damned.”
He narrows his eyes. “So you married the girl to keep her out of my reach.”
“I married her because I love her.”
He laughs again. Cruel and cold. “Men like us do not know of such emotion.”
“Then you are weaker than I thought. But I have not brought you here today to talk about feelings. You’re here so I can make one thing unmistakably clear. I am Holly’s husband. And you will remember exactly what that makes you, and what it makes me.”
The room goes still.
He’s thinking about what this means.
About all that money.
And how I just made it impossible for him to touch her.
"You think you're going to get a penny out of me?” His voice is low and dangerous. “You think you can use some story about an old inheritance against me? Try to take from me by marrying my granddaughter?"
"I don't want your money. Or should I say, Katerina's inheritance." I take another step forward, my voice dropping to a dark growl. "I am simply warning you to back the fuck away from my wife."
Yuri's eyes flash with pure hatred, but beneath it, I see something else. Grudging respect for the rules. And recognition that I've outplayed him at his own game.
"The Six's rules are sacred," he says slowly, each word measured. "What's done is done."
"So we understand each other," I say.
"Oh, we understand each other perfectly." He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a deadly whisper. "You've won this round, Morozov. But don't mistake my compliance for weakness. I will not forget this."
“I don’t imagine you will.”
The voice comes from the top of the stairs.
Every head in the room turns.
Holly stands there, her hair loose around her shoulders. Her face is pale but composed, her chin lifted in defiance.
She looks like a queen.
My queen.
"I'm Nikolai's wife," she says to Yuri, her voice steady. "You must be the asshole who wants me dead."
37
HOLLY
I descend the stairs slowly, my hand trailing along the banister. Every eye in the room is on me, but I only look at one person.
Yuri Orlova.
The Wolf.
My asshole grandfather.
He's older than I expected. Crueler. His eyes are chips of ice, cold and merciless, and when he looks at me, I see nothing but calculation.
"You look like her," he says finally. "Like Katerina. Tell me. Are you as weak as her?”
His words drip with contempt.
But they light a fire in me.
"Oh, I have a feeling I'm just like her."
And then I slap him.
The crack echoes through the room like a gunshot.
Yuri's head snaps to the side, his cheek reddening. His wife gasps. The bodyguards tense.
But I'm not done.
"That's for trying to kill my mom," I say. And then I slap him again. My palm connects with his other cheek, and the force of it sends a shock up my arm. "And that's for trying to kill me."