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)
But now he’s treating me like we’re a real couple.
I have to admit, I don’t mind it.
Valentin still scares me. He has a darkness inside of him that runs deep and black. Violence is never far away when he’s in the room.
Except I feel safe when he’s with me. I know, beyond a doubt, he’d do anything to protect me. His strange, deepening obsession with me should be a total red flag, but instead it makes me like him more.
I like that he puts his hand on my leg. I like that he wraps his choker around my throat.
And I like that he wants to give me a glimpse into his business.
The night wears on. We finish eating, but the string of meetings doesn’t end until after midnight. By then, we’re both tired, but he says we can’t leave just yet. I should be bored and ready to get out of there, but I’ve honestly enjoyed myself. Watching him flex his power has been intoxicating.
His inner circle begins to filter into the room. Roman Egorov, Konstantin Pavlov, Pavel, Yegor, Anton, and Oleg Fedorov, and a few other brigadiers from minor families fill all the seats at the table. I’m introduced to the men I haven’t met yet, and they’re all polite and deferential, almost to a fault. Vodka gets poured, cigars are lit, and the men speak a mixture of English and Russian. There’s loud laughter, but I sense a strain beneath it all.
After some time drinking and smoking, Valentin calls the group to order. “We need to discuss our plans moving forward.”
There’s silence from the men. I notice several of them are looking at me. Oleg Fedorov clears his throat. “Yes, Pakhan, but is this something more suited to the war council only?” he asks, doing his best to phrase his question in the politest manner possible.
“If you’re speaking of my wife, she’s going to remain through the discussion.” Valentin’s tone is hard and suggests there’s no room for negotiation. “Now, you all know what I learned recently. I need plans and ideas.”
I can tell the men are unhappy that I’m still there, but they do their best to ignore me. The discussion is tense and dominated by Konstantin, who wants to storm the restaurant and kill Arsen Sirkissian on sight. Oleg suggests something with more subtlety, and thinks they should take the boy alive.
“We have to send the right message,” Konstantin snarls, slamming the table. “No weakness. No fucking soft shit.”
“It’s not soft to take the son of the man we’re fighting against alive,” Oleg snaps back. “He’s worth more as a prisoner.”
“Fuck prisoners. This is war, you soft sack of shit.”
“Don’t speak to me like that.” Oleg gestures in Konstantin’s face with his cigar. “You spineless pig. I’ll fucking gut you here and now.”
“Try it.” Konstantin shoves his chair back and gets to his feet.
Oleg stands too, facing him down.
That’s when I decide it’s a really good idea to talk.
“What if we do both?” I ask, staring around the table.
Valentin’s eyebrows raise. He seems surprised that I decided this is the moment to voice my opinion, but not upset about it.
The other men are a little more annoyed.
Konstantin looks over, practically snarling. “And what would you know about matters like this? Have you fought a war before?”
A hush falls heavy over everyone. I stare at the grizzled old Russian, and his face goes slightly pale as he glances at Valentin. Both he and Oleg take their seats again, and I can tell Valentin’s about to do something very drastic.
I put my hand on his knee to stop him and lean forward.
“No, I haven’t, but I do have an idea that might work. His restaurant gets regular food deliveries, right? It would be easy to find out who his suppliers are and what their schedule is, and break into his place masquerading as a delivery team. Once you’re inside, you can locate Arsen without tipping him off, take him into custody, and kill everyone else.”
Another silence follows. I don’t even know where that plan came from, but it just hit me while I was listening to the two men bicker. Why not do both? Why always one or the other? This way, they can accomplish both goals.
“I like it,” Valentin says at last. Pride swells in my chest and I sit back, trying not to smile. “Konstantin, tell my wife what you think of her plan.”
The old Russian grunts at me and nods once. “It’s a good idea.”
“I like it as well,” Oleg adds quickly. “Very good thinking, Tsarina.”
I frown at the nickname, but nobody explains. The conversation moves on, and the focus quickly turns toward the details of my plan and how they’re going to pull it off.
Once they have the shape of things, several of the brigadiers are dismissed to start implementing the plan. Others remain at the table, and more vodka is passed around.