Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78627 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 315(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
My nerves are worn thin by the time I reach the city. Even though there are more people out and about, I’m still on guard as I search one street after the other for a hotel.
I have no idea how long I’ve been walking in the rain when I finally find a hotel. I hurry into the lobby and rush to the reception counter.
“I need a room, please.”
The receptionist smiles compassionately at me. “Poor thing. You got caught in the rain.” She types on the keyboard, then says, “Can I have your ID?”
I pull the document out of my purse and hand it to the lady.
“How long will your visit be?”
I have no idea how long I’ll be here, so I give her a random number. “Three days.”
“The account needs to be settled in full before you check out,” she warns me.
“Okay.”
I’m given a key and room number, then she smiles brightly, “Enjoy your stay.”
“Thank you.”
Walking to the old elevator, I glance around the lobby, and only when the doors close behind me and I’m taken to the second floor, do I release a breath of relief.
I dig my phone out of my purse and quickly send Armani a text.
I’m at the S7 hotel. Room 203.
The elevator doors slide open, and rushing to the room, I let myself in and make sure to lock the door behind me.
I only spare a second to look at the plain furniture before going to the bed. Stripping out of the wet coat, I pull the cover from the mattress and wrap it tightly around my feezing body.
I glance around me again, feeling terrified of what’s going to happen once Mr. Aslanhov finds out I ran away.
Oh my God! I should’ve stayed and held out until Misha came back. What have I done?
I sink down to the floor, and bringing my knees to my chest, I wrap my arms around my shins and bury my face in the covers.
What have I done?
Overwhelmed by everything that’s happened, my tears start to fall.
Chapter 10
Armani
Karlin Makarova is an arms dealer and enemy of the bratva because he trades in Moscow without Viktor’s permission.
I don’t understand why Alek’s father would arrange a marriage between the man and Tiana.
And I’m fucking pissed off. She’s promised to me.
Stalking into the hotel, I head up to the second floor and knock on the door.
When Tiana doesn’t open, I knock again, calling, “It’s Armani.”
Not even a second later, the door swings open. My eyes lock on Tiana’s pale face and damp hair. I step into the room and shut the door behind me, then take a good look at her.
She looks fucking terrified, the fear trembling in her eyes.
My heart stutters in my chest from the sight. I take hold of Tiana’s shoulders and pull her to my chest. Pressing a kiss to the damp strands, I say, “I’m here. I’ll take care of everything.”
She lets go of the blanket she’s been clinging to and wraps her arms around me. “I’m in so much trouble. I shouldn’t have called you, but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“When did you find out about the arranged marriage?” I ask as I push her back so I can see her face.
“On Monday. I’ve been on three dates with Karlin. I was going to wait for Misha to get back, but then…” Her words trail away.
“Why didn’t you tell me on Monday?”
Tiana takes a couple of steps back while wrapping her arms around her middle. Her fear-filled eyes dart from my face to the floor. “You’re mafia, and this is a bratva matter. I didn’t want to get you in trouble.” She gives me a pleading look. “I didn’t want to be the cause of a war between the mafia and the bratva.”
I shake my head. “That won’t happen easily.” I glance around the room, and seeing the wet coat on the floor, I shrug out of my jacket and wrap it around Tiana’s shoulders. “Tell me what happened. Don’t leave anything out.”
She pushes her arms into the sleeves and sits down on the edge of the bed. Looking defeated, her eyes drift closed.
“Mr. Aslanhov called me to his office and said I’m to marry Karlin. We went on three dates.” Her eyes open, and she looks self-conscious as she adds, “He’s not a nice person, and I tried to handle it on my own.” Her shoulders fall in defeat, and she shakes her head. “I shouldn’t have run.”
Walking closer, I crouch in front of her and place my hand on her knee. When her eyes meet mine, I say, “You did the right thing, piccola, but you should’ve told me what was happening on Monday. Don’t keep things like this from me.”
Worry forms a frown on her forehead. “But you’re mafia, Armani. What good will that do? You have no power in Russia.”