Total pages in book: 187
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 177397 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 887(@200wpm)___ 710(@250wpm)___ 591(@300wpm)
“Fuck.”
That’s it. That is all he gives me.
Then, after numerous cusswords, he says, “I wasn’t thinking.”
“No, you weren’t.”
And neither the fuck was I. I’m not going to tell him that, though.
My plan was to move closer to Zoya’s location to protect her, not pin a target on her back, but even something billed as a country escape was impossible to implement with the federation and my father breathing down my neck.
My every move is being scrutinized, and I hate it almost as much as I loathe the devastated look Zoya gave me when I had to pretend she’s nothing but a prop for me to fuck with.
I didn’t lie two weeks ago when I said she hasn’t left my head for a single second. She’s in every frame, but I’m not the only one playing her features on repeat.
Her name has been tossed around too often over the past month for me not to pay careful attention to every mutter.
If I hadn’t looked up with a second to spare, I would have been busted violating the very woman I’m endeavoring to hide.
I can’t fight fire with fire when Zoya is directly in front of me. It isn’t possible. I’m not thinking about vengeance or the possible retaliation I’ll face when they find out the man my mother struck didn’t die of natural causes.
Nothing but the thrill of the chase is on my mind, and how much I crave my middle name being spoken by Zoya while she’s in the midst of ecstasy.
But as quickly as the wish to make her climax burns through my veins, so does the remembrance of the last time I failed to protect the only person I truly cared about.
As much as I should hate to admit this, Zoya’s fiery attitude attracts me more than her vulnerability. I love that she’s willing to push the boundaries and that she has the gall to pull off a raid not even the world’s deadliest assassin would consider.
She won’t just slap a man who does her wrong.
She will wholly fucking destroy him.
But I can’t stomach picturing her enduring the same outcome of my mother.
That’s why I need to toe the line while endeavoring to unearth the key players of the federation. I need to play this game with the integrity it deserves, and so the fuck do the people who are meant to be on my side.
“You almost put her in their direct sight, Mikhail.”
“Only almost?” Mikhail queries, hearing what he wants to hear.
I shift my eyes from the SUVs coming to stop under the large canopy that is usually bustling with employees but now resembles a ghost town to Zoya’s shadowed figure. She’s visible enough for a trained sniper to take her out, but barely a speck for someone with aged eyes.
My grandfather is a fit man for his age, but he can barely see two feet in front of him.
Thank fuck.
Arabella’s vision is far more percipient. After exiting the door I tore through when my intuition had me tracking Zoya’s location faster than the reports of numerous surveillance cameras being taken offline, Arabella follows my gaze over the rolling hills before trudging to my side without the giddy anticipation of a soon-to-be bride.
As I curl my arm around her waist, weakening the narrowed glare of my grandfather who is watching the farce from his office window, I twist us away from a planned meetup the federation organized before shifting my focus back to my conversation with Mikhail.
“To maintain his cover, Konstantine will drop her off at the closest truck stop. Find a way there before them or start digging your grave.”
I’d rather Konstantine take Zoya back to her apartment, but since he is the only man on my team I trust to guide my next move, I can’t instruct him to do that. I need Mikhail to step in, not only to take the heat off me, but also from Zoya.
If they think she was here for Mikhail as she lied about earlier, her arrival today won’t be second-guessed. My family’s estates are as much his as they are mine, so it is a pliable cover.
“I’ll be—”
I disconnect our call before all of Mikhail’s reply leaves his mouth. I’m too hot with vengeance to hear any more of his excuses, and too fucking hard from the scent of Zoya’s arousal on my palm to have any conversation, much less the one I’m about to endure.
“Kazimir, darling, come meet our guests.” Dina ushers me over as if we’re standing in the driveway of her home before she introduces me to two men I swear I’ve seen before. “Please meet Dr. Abdulov and Dr. Azores.”
I shake the middle-aged men’s hands before shifting on my feet to face the additional three who appear to have more authority singularly than Dr. Abdulov and Dr. Azores combined. One has a large scar down one side of his jaw and carries himself with a confidence that announces he is rarely without a weapon. He’s most likely the protective detail, though I will save my judgment fully for after Konstantine has arrived.