Shackled (Wicked Vows #5) Read Online Jane Henry

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Mafia, Suspense Tags Authors: Series: Wicked Vows Series by Jane Henry
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Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 79097 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
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Aleks shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe her brother’s using her to be eyes and ears for the cartel. Maybe she’s more involved in his operations than we initially thought.”

I shake my head. For some reason, I don’t believe that to be true. Isabella is not the type of person to be used by any man, and she can’t disguise the raw hatred she has for her brother. Aleks continues. “Maybe her presence here isn’t a coincidence. Perhaps she was sent to gather intel, to find our weaknesses.”

“No… I don’t think that’s it. Regardless, she’s still absolutely a threat to us, but I haven’t gotten to why yet. I’d bet my life she’s not working for her brother. Did you find out anything else?”

“Yeah,” Aleks continues. “Well, Aria did anyways.” Mikhail’s wife Aria is even more skilled than Aleks, often finding hidden layers of information that give us a broader, more holistic picture of the world around us and the threats lurking therein. “She dug deep into her background. You may be right, Lev, because it seems she hasn’t been entirely loyal to her family. There are rumors of her sabotaging their operations. Things like freeing captives, especially women who were meant to be sold. Going against direct orders, etcetera.”

“Jesus,” I mutter. “I bet her brother loved that.”

“Yeah,” Aleks says. “There’s a record here of an emergency visit last year. Looks like she had a broken arm and black eye.” My vision turns hazy red, and my cup clatters to the table. Only a fucking pussy raises a hand like that to a woman. A fucking pussy.

“Easy,” Mikhail says. “Think about it. What would we do if Polina sabotaged our efforts?”

“She fucking has,” I say, shaking my head. My sister’s penchant for being compassionate and fair has gotten her in loads of trouble. “You wouldn’t beat her, Mikhail.”

“Of course not,” he says.

“Then what are you saying?” I snap.

Viktor growls, and Aleks’s brows shoot up to his hairline. Mikhail clears his throat. “Watch it, Lev.”

I draw in a breath and let it out slowly.

“What I’m saying is this. You are not going to lose your shit on her brother because of some kind of misplaced chivalry.” He leans forward. “Am I clear?”

I’m shaking with the effort of controlling myself. They don’t know what she’s like. I’ve never seen a woman as tenacious and fucking brilliant as Isabella Morales. If some small-minded, tiny-dick asshole thinks hitting her is the way to get her compliance, I absolutely am fucking going to remember that.

I blow out a breath.

“Lev,” he says warningly. But he can’t intimidate me like he used to. When I was young and wild, before I’d sown my oats and been fully inducted into the Romanov Bratva, my older brothers acted the part of guardians. They kept me in line, made me obey the rules, and taught me discipline and respect, and as an adult, I’m grateful for that.

But sometimes, they don’t remember that I’m not that fucking unruly, unpredictable kid anymore.

Still, Mikhail is my pakhan, and I do owe him my allegiance and respect. I know I do.

I nod. “Yes. I understand. Isabella is a wild card.”

“Exactly,” Aleks says. “Which makes her both dangerous and highly valuable.” He sets the tablet down. “We need to decide how to handle her. If her brother finds out she’s here, things could escalate quickly.”

“It isn’t a matter of if,” Ollie says softly. “But when.” I almost forgot he was there.

I nod. He’s right. I take another sip of espresso, my mind racing. Her fierce resistance, her skills, and now this new intel paints an interesting albeit complex picture. She isn’t just a pawn. My suspicions about her are correct—she has her own agenda.

“I’m gonna watch her closely,” I say, determined. “Make no mistake. If she tries to betray us, she’ll learn what happens when you cross the Bratva.”

Mikhail nods. “Good.”

I won’t let anything jeopardize my family, not even the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.

I glance back at the screen where Isabella lies and lift my mug. I blink. Look harder. Shit.

She’s fucking gone.

“Motherfucker,” I mutter. “I’ll be back.” The alarm indicating she’s crossed the edge of my property blares. One of my brothers chuckles, and another one curses in Russian.

I tap the surveillance footage and can see clearly where she’s escaped. She’s a sleek little mouse, easily moving from one place to the next undetected. Christ. How am I going to keep this woman under my thumb?

I force myself to stay calm while I watch the footage to see how she escaped and how I’ll get to her. She moves silently through my house, using her lock-picking skills to bypass several locked doors. Her movements are precise and calculated, and there’s a small smile on her lips and a gleam in her eyes that tells me she’s enjoying herself immensely.


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