Total pages in book: 75
Estimated words: 69662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69662 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 348(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
But we’d grown up together, and I couldn’t picture my life without him. In fact, I knew it would be a bleak and gray world if I didn’t have my Viking-sized best friend by my side.
My father was in a heated discussion with Timur, whom I knew my father trusted with his life and who went everywhere with us.
I stopped beside my mother and Timur glanced at me, giving me that sweet smile that told me he was proud. My mother, dressed to the nines with dripping jewels around her throat and at her ears, looked like she’d rather be anywhere else but here.
My father clipped out a harsh string of Russian to Timur and jerked his chin toward the front doors. Then my father walked over to where we stood and cupped each side of my face before leaning down and kissing the center of my forehead.
“Beautiful,” he murmured in Russian. “Absolutely beautiful, my little doll.” He pulled me into a tight embrace, the scent of his expensive cologne and some other smoky aroma that always lingered with him filling my head and sparking memories in my brain.
When he moved back, he pulled out my necklace he always kept for me for safekeeping when I wasn’t able to wear it. Once it was secured around my neck, he kissed my cheek and beamed down at me.
I was a daddy’s girl, if I were to put a term to it. Where my mother lacked love and affection, my father gave it to me tenfold. And I relished it, knowing I wouldn’t find parental love anywhere else.
Although my father was overprotective, and very overbearing, the iron fist he wielded in the Bratva never touched me.
Despite the love and affection he lavished on me, I wasn’t a fool to think the world we lived in, the crime syndicate that ran through my blood, wouldn’t one day catch up with me. It always did with those involved in this life.
My father offered his arm to my mother, and she slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow. I stood at his other side, and the three of us silently made our way out of the venue and to the waiting car at the curb.
Once we were in the interior, the driver took us back home. My parents were as silent as they ever were in each other’s company. The love between them had been gone for as long as I could remember.
I loved my family, as much as someone could care about the familiar. But as I glanced at my mother and father, who acted as if looking in each other’s direction would cause bodily harm, I wondered what, exactly, love felt like because it surely couldn’t be this.
It was only ten minutes into the car ride before they started arguing with each other. I tuned them out as soon as my mother started talking about how she was going away this weekend for a girls’ trip to Bermuda.
Once we were back home, I quickly said goodnight and headed to my room. I shut the door and leaned against it as I stared at the ceiling. I lived in wealth, my surroundings were lavish, and I knew if I didn’t have Kostya in my life I probably would’ve felt like I was in a whirlpool. Just going round and round and round with no chance of getting out from the repetitive motion.
After getting ready for bed, I shut off all the lights, laying in bed with the blankets pulled up to my chin, and stared at the patio doors in my bedroom.
Kostya wouldn’t come until much later. He’d wait till everyone was asleep, until he knew he could get past the guards and security cameras. He was good like that, stealthy and sneaky.
It brought a smile to my face and I felt my eyes grow heavy as sleep tried to claim me. Even though I wanted to stay awake and watch him come into my room, I was exhausted and let the feeling of falling asleep take over.
Chapter
Three
Kostya
When I could barely stand, they pushed me harder.
When I was broken, bloody, bruised and begging to stop, they made me do more, fight harder.
I turned my head and spit a mouthful of saliva and blood out, weaving on my feet, my entire body aching. I was pretty sure one of my shoulders was dislocated, possibly a rib cracked.
Although I was big for my age, bigger than even the majority of the fully grown men currently crammed in the underground room, the opponent they’d given me tonight was far bigger. Older. More experienced in death.
He came at me and I ducked, swung, and hit him in the kidneys. The grunt that left him was satisfactory, and I did it again. He slammed his fist into my side and the breath left me as I stumbled back.