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)
“I have another meeting,” Aunt Sona announces in the hall, checking her phone. “And about twelve missed calls I have to return.” Her face returns to that ugly stern glare. Life returns to normal. “Tigran, your wife is a delight, and you don’t deserve her.” She turns smartly and strides off.
“God, that old shrew,” I mutter when she's finally gone. “When are you going to let me kill her?”
Arsen laughs and puts an arm across my shoulder. “Never. She’s too useful. Now, let’s talk about Dasha.”
“Please, I’ll pass.”
“You like her.”
“She’s my wife.” I shove him back.
“You defended her from Sona. You were ready to jump down my throat too. The whole time you were hovering over her like a lion watching over its pride. Come on, you like her.”
“I’m loyal to my wife,” I say through gritted teeth. But I don’t even know why I’m annoyed. What’s wrong with wanting my wife to be happy?
I don’t have to love her or something absurd like that.
But I can still want her to be comfortable.
“You look at her like a rose tilting its face up toward the sun.”
“God, you’re such a shit poet. Please stop.”
He punches my arm, grinning widely. “Never thought I’d see the day that the black-hearted Tigran melted under a woman’s warm embrace.”
“If you weren’t my brother and my patron, I’d murder you.”
“I know, isn’t it great?” He sighs and checks his phone. “You have to bring Dasha over to meet Lena and Roman soon. Or maybe I can bring them here. We’ll work it out.”
I walk him to the edge of the steps. “I bet Dasha would like that. Lena’s a good one. Your kid’s okay.”
“Please, you’re a simp for your nephew.” He shoots off a text and gives me another smirk. “I’m happy for you, though.”
“Why?” I grumble. “It’s just an arrangement.”
Arsen shakes his head as he walks off. His guards fall in at the front door and escort him outside.
I watch him go, not happy about that conversation. What’s wrong with defending my wife? Why’s he acting like it’s a big deal that I’m protective of her?
Dasha’s reclusive. She’s got issues she’s working through. It’s bad enough dragging her here and taking her away from everything she’s ever known.
Throw in a close call via car bomb, and she’s just barely holding on. Top it off with some baby-making, and she’s probably a wreck.
I’ve lost enough in my day. I’m not going to lose Dasha too.
Not like I lost Natalia.
No, that nearly broke me, and I will not go back to that.
Aunt Sona’s right about trauma. Everyone in this family’s got enough to drive them insane, and I’m no exception. Only I won’t let my past get in the way of my present.
I’ll be a good husband and a reliable protector to Dasha until our baby is born, and then I’ll follow through on my promise to her.
Chapter 15
Tigran
It’s strange how a door can be so distracting.
Whenever I’m in my suite, it’s always there, begging me to kick it down. Because I know Dasha’s always on the other side. My little, pretty wife, with her incredible figure and her thick braid. I want to wrap it around my fist as I fuck her face until she chokes.
I am a demented creature.
But the door. The goddamn door. I pace across my room, thinking about my wife waiting for me to come do my duty. I gave her two nights off, but we both know what has to happen.
Her body under mine, writhing as I fill her to the brim.
“Fucking door,” I snarl, going toward it, but hesitate as my phone starts to vibrate. It’s a little after eight at night, and I should be storming into my wife’s suite to get her pregnant so we can end this dance.
Instead, I answer. “What do you want?” I snap.
“Bro, you need to get down here.” It’s Arsen. Not who I expected. “The computer warehouse. Get here immediately.”
Whatever’s happening must be bad. I can hear it in his voice. “I’ll be there in ten.” When I hang up, I pause for only a moment.
That door will have to wait.
Alexan has the car pulled around by the time my gun’s loaded and holstered. He drives fast and doesn’t say much the whole way. I’m used to Damian chatting all the time, talking incessantly about movies he watched and music he likes, even under stressful situations.
That drove me crazy sometimes, but it was a part of his personality.
I miss him. He was a good driver, a loyal friend, and a competent soldier. We used to spend hours together, going all around the city, getting into trouble and pulling off jobs. He saved my life more than once, and I repaid the favor tenfold. We had a great working relationship, and I considered him a close friend.