Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90084 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 450(@200wpm)___ 360(@250wpm)___ 300(@300wpm)
When I come back downstairs, Valentin’s waiting for me. “Your mother said to leave without seeing her again.” He gently steers me to the door. “She’s tired but says to visit her tomorrow. I’ll arrange things, if you like.”
“You do realize that letting me come see my own mother isn’t exactly going to make me forgive you for this, right?”
He doesn’t seem bothered. “I’ll assume that means you want to come.”
Down on the sidewalk, I turn on him. Trash blows down the street, and the car’s idling for us beside the curb. I grab his arm, fingers digging into his muscle, and I’m all too aware of how big he is, how powerful he is.
“At least tell me you got something useful after all that.”
His expression doesn’t change. “Do you really want to know? It’s one thing to be my wife. It’s another to be part of my life.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
“It means, the war is going to be ugly.” He leans closer and pulls me roughly into him. I let out a surprised yelp. “You can let me shelter you and keep you away from the worst of it. There’s no need for you to involve yourself any more than you already have.”
“That’s not an option. They’re my family.”
“Yes, they are, but does that matter?” He stares at me, and I know what he’s doing. In his mind, this is his sick way of trying to protect me.
“What did Mama tell you?”
He lingers in the silence for a moment and lets out a sigh. He leans down and bruises my mouth with his, a kiss that lasts only moments, but it’s blistering and possessive. He pulls back before I can, and I’m too stunned to do anything but glare.
“Your mother is a clever woman with a good memory. She might not realize it, but I think she was a big help.” He turns to the car and drags me along with him. “Come, I’ll tell you some things about your uncle that I bet you never knew. Only you’ll have to be stronger.”
“Stronger?”
“It’s war time, and if you want to be the pakhan’s wife, it’s time you acted like it.” He leans across the back seat and forcefully buckles my belt. His voice drops to a whisper. “And you are all mine, malishka. All of you.”
Chapter 22
Karine
The mansion is stifling and overwhelming.
Valentin’s busy over the next few days. I visit with my mother once, as promised, but she’s not in the mood to talk about the looming war. Instead, she cooks us lunch and sticks with comfortable, normal gossip about her Mahjong friends.
Aside from that, I’m basically stuck dealing with the Russian soldiers, my bodyguards, and the steady stream of important Bratva members that Valentin’s forced to entertain as he gears up for a fight.
I’m mostly ignored.
At least the house staff is kind to me. They’re deferential, almost a little too deferential, except for Nikkita. The old woman isn’t exactly kind, but she doesn’t treat me like a nuisance anymore at least. I sit in the kitchen with her a few times and watch her cook, and at first it annoys her, but eventually she starts barking orders at me. “If you’re going to stare, you might as well put yourself to work,” she says.
That’s how I learn to make a few basic Russian dishes.
But getting bossed around by an old lady can only do so much, and soon I’m stir-crazy. On Thursday evening, I get dressed like I’m going to work at Stove and Smoke, and slip out the front door before anyone can stop me. The bar isn’t too far away, and even though I’m being followed by a contingent of very nervous criminal thugs, the evening stroll is surprisingly nice.
And the bar feels like coming home. I’m greeted by my manager, who asks when I’m coming back for another shift, and I know half the regulars. I catch sight of my Russian shadows on the phone at a booth looking like they’re about to be sick. I should feel sorry for them, but I really don’t.
“Oh my god, I thought I’d dreamed you, but here you are in the flesh.” Merrick’s sitting at the far end of the bar and his entire body lights up when I take the stool next to him. The bartender, a girl named Ashley, brings me a glass of wine.
“How have things been?” I ask him.
“On my end, completely fine, about the same. But on yours?” He leans in close, smirking ear to ear. “I hear a little congratulations is in order.”
I swirl my drink. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“Oh, please, don’t be like that, darling. I know you and that gorgeous Valentin man got hitched. I have little spies all over the city and they whisper in my ear.”