Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 94829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94829 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Can’t be too careful,” I grunt as I go through her stuff. “That’s a lot of lipstick. Six tubes? Nine? What the hell do you need all that for?”
“If you’re going to invade my personal space, at least try not to embarrass me as well,” she snaps, shoving her things away. There’s nothing interesting aside from a weird makeup obsession.
“If you’d prefer, I can have one of my men do this search?”
“I’d like to see you try,” she says, glaring hard. That woman may be aging, but she’s still got a damn fire in her. I’m having fun, even though she wants to kill me.
“Would you two stop?” Arsen says, sounding exhausted. “Can we please get this over with?”
I roughly pat my brother down. He shakes his head the whole time, his jaw working with frustration.
“My wife was nearly killed by a car bomb a few days ago. She was on her way to a meeting with you two. Security is understandably fucking tight right now.”
“We’re the last two people in the world that want her dead,” Arsen points out when I’m done frisking him. No weapons, as requested, which is actually kind of touching. My brother doesn’t like going anywhere without at least a gun.
That trait runs in the family.
“I went to great personal pains to arrange your marriage,” Aunt Sona says smartly, straightening her pantsuit. She’s got nothing on her either, and I made sure of that. No part of me thinks Arsen was involved, and no part of me trusts Sona enough for her to be above suspicion.
“And I’m sure you’d go through great personal pains to kill her if that’s what you felt was right. Remember how we were at war not that long ago?”
“The war is behind us now,” she says, putting a fist in my face. “And if you keep going on—”
“If you two don’t stop bickering, I’m going to have you both killed,” Arsen snaps, finally sounding at the end of his patience. “Tigran, I respect your dedication to security. Your wife’s safety is all of our priority, even yours, Sona." He gives her a hard look until she sighs and nods her head. “Now, please, introduce us officially.”
Reluctantly, I lead them upstairs. Several guards lurk nearby, all of them loyal to me personally. That’s the thing with crime families: our employees tend to kill for whoever’s writing the checks. Or in this case, whoever’s handing out the enormous cash payments.
Our family’s similar to the McGrath clan. Where Liam runs their business, Arsen’s our leader and head. Which leaves me in Seamus’s position. I’m our war chief, our killer, our knife. When the family was at war with itself, I was the one out murdering cousins and killing uncles. And afterward, when Arsen brought everyone back together and began to change the structure of the Brotherhood, I was the one to make an example of anyone who complained.
I earned my reputation the hard way. But I’m not stupid enough to think I can do it all alone.
Which is why my personal guards are very well paid, and I go to pains to make sure they know that they can owe their good life to me.
Vito’s waiting outside Dasha’s door. He shakes Arsen’s hand respectfully and gives a quick hug and a cheek kiss to Sona.
“You old dog, you’re still kicking,” Aunt Sona says, smiling at the man and making eyes like she wants to sleep with him right there in the hall. Which is disgusting, since I find her so reprehensible, but also she’s married to someone else.
“It’s good to see you again, Sona. It has been much too long.”
“I’d heard you’d retired, but I didn’t know you worked for this little cretin.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t call him that. And I wouldn’t say I’m retired, either.” Vito beams at her and gestures toward the door. “Now, please, Dasha’s waiting. I just want to warn you both that she’s been nervous about this all day, so take it easy on her.”
Aunt Sona snorts. “Nervous for what? We’re family now.”
“She must know how unpleasant you are,” I say firmly before knocking on the door. Better to get this over with than to linger out here talking all night. Poor Dasha’s probably pacing around, turning this whole meeting into something bigger than it is.
Dasha welcomes everyone into her rooms graciously. She’s in a smart blouse with a pair of gray slacks. Her heels make her a few inches taller, although I prefer it when she’s small. I like my tiny little wife with her braided blonde hair and her little pink nipples.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she says stiffly, shaking Arsen’s hand. “Tigran’s said a lot about you.”
“Has he?” Arsen seems surprised. “Talking shit about me, brother?”
“If speaking the truth is talking shit.”
“You bastard. Whatever he’s saying, believe every word. I’m just as bad, or maybe worse.” Arsen’s got his charm going, and it seems to put Dasha slightly at ease.