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)
Her father groans, only somewhat conscious.
“I’ll spare him,” I say, even though it goes against everything that I am. “Only because that’s what you want.”
“Thank you, Tigran.” She kisses me again, smiling, angelic and perfect. My beautiful wife. The mother of my child. “I know it’s not easy, but thank you.”
She’s right, it’s not fucking easy. If she weren’t here, I would’ve stomped and punched until Serge was a corpse and my knuckles were bruised and broken.
But with her, I don’t have to be a monster.
I can be better, or at least I can let her steer me in a new direction.
“You will never speak to your daughter again unless she decides she wants to hear from you.” I nudge him with the toe of my boot. “Do you understand?”
“Yes,” he hisses, spitting more blood. “Please, I’m sorry.”
“I know you are, Dad; that’s why you’re not dead.” She crouches down at his side and brushes some of his bloody hair from his face. He’s wheezing and can’t move, but his eyes are lucid at least. “You felt bad, didn’t you? That’s why you let me stay at home for so long. You felt guilty for letting Seamus live.”
“I failed you,” he whispers.
“Yes, you did,” she agrees and steps away. “Get yourself cleaned up. Go home and don’t come back. You won’t be a part of my baby’s life.”
“Dashenka,” he says, groaning in agony.
“Don’t call me that anymore.” She turns her back on him, looking so glorious and strong. I’m half hard as my blood pounds in my ears. “Goodbye, Dad.”
She leaves the room.
Fucking God, that woman is glorious.
I watch her go, oozing with love and respect, basking in her glow.
Then I look back at her slug of a father.
“Regardless of what she says in the future, if I ever see you again, I will kill you. Do you understand?”
He manages a nod.
Then I leave him alone to fucking rot before one of my men tosses him in a car and takes him back to his shit-infested city.
Dasha’s waiting for me in the hall with tears in her eyes. I grab her by the hips and pull her into me, kissing her hair, her eyes, her mouth, her scar.
“I will do what he couldn’t,” I whisper, swearing it with my heart and soul. “I’ll avenge you and Vito. Seamus will die, and he will die screaming. I’ll tear the city apart for you, and I won’t stop until he’s gone.”
“I know you will,” she says and looks up at me. “That’s what I’m so afraid of.”
Chapter 30
Tigran
It’s a rainy, ugly night, and visibility’s not great.
Any other job, and I would’ve called it by now. This kind of weather is a real risk.
But this is too important to pass up.
The information came to me at Vito’s funeral. It was actually a little comical—the old pimp would’ve fucking loved it.
A dozen girls showed up, all of them dressed entirely inappropriately, wailing and prostrating themselves in front of his casket, making a real fucking racket. I thought it was disrespectful at first, at least until one of the older madams came to speak with me in the back.
“He hired us,” she explained with a wry grin. “Paid in full a few years ago for this service.”
“No fucking kidding?” At the time, I was totally taken aback, but now I get it. Vito’s always been a showman at heart. He wanted to go out on his terms, and he sure as hell did.
But that wasn’t everything. That woman and I stood in the quiet of the back vestibule as the majority of the mourners moved off to the cemetery for the burial. She gave me a look, and the smile disappeared.
“One last piece of information for you,” she said, head cocked to the side. “Already paid for, so don’t worry about that. Call it a parting gift from Vito.”
Now, I’m staring at a casino on the outskirts of the city as rain hammers the windshield. Alexan’s by my side, quiet like always, but it’s not the silence of an anxious man.
We’ve gotten to know each other better in the weeks since Damian’s death. At first, I thought Alexan was too unpredictable, but now I know better. He’s a gifted hacker and a loyal bodyguard, and I’m beginning to trust him with my life.
I wish he could be back at the house with my wife, but I need him tonight.
A dozen highly paid guards plus a fortress of a house will have to suffice for a few hours.
But I check the cameras on my phone, just to be sure.
“Movement up front,” Alexan murmurs.
I force myself to stop watching the hallway back home and focus on the street. Two men are hurrying out, both of them exposed to the rain. They’re tall and broad, one stockier than the other. The thinner one tries to light a cigarette but can’t do it with all the rain. They’re arguing about something and slowly walking together toward the main road.