Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 416(@200wpm)___ 333(@250wpm)___ 277(@300wpm)
He’s doing that thing again where he intently stares at me while not looking at the road. It increases my heart rate, and a small thrill rushes through me.
“Yes, I do. Did you fuck her?”
“I don’t know if she has a golden pussy because I didn’t fuck her.” He looks back at the road.
Then why go this far for her?
“Okay, so either you have a savior complex or are just outright stupid.”
“I’ve been called many things, but stupid isn’t one of them.”
“To your face anyway,” I mumble under my breath, and notice the hint of a smile on his lips. It does something to me, easing the tension. It’s like I’ve hit the jackpot by being able to get this man to even give a hint of a smirk.
He pulls over, and I look out the window, my jaw dropping. The hotel is something I know I definitely can’t afford.
A well-dressed man in a suit opens my door expectantly and leans down to speak to Alek.
“Mr. Ivanov, your sister phoned, and your suite has already been organized,” he says with a charming smile.
Alek nods. “It will be for my guest this evening. Make sure she gets anything she wants, and charge it to my card.”
The gentleman nods and steps back.
I feel like I’m in some kind of weird fairy tale.
“You’re not coming in with me?” I ask in disbelief. It feels strange that he wouldn’t at least have to go in to the registration desk to sign for it or something. Or is this how all the wealthy people do it?
“No, I’m late for a meeting, remember?”
“Oh. Right,” I’m quick to say, and a hot flush rolls over me. “Why would you go this far for me?”
He doesn’t answer, and the silence is a tangible weight in the car.
“How old are you?” he asks.
“Twenty-four.”
“I’m old enough to know better,” he says.
My eyebrows furrow in confusion, and I realize he’s not going to elaborate. Because why would he? It’s Alek. For some reason, I have the impression it has something to do with our age difference. Does he think I’m too young? I internally chastise myself. No. I cannot think of him in a romantic light whatsoever.
“Miss?” prompts the gentleman waiting outside the door.
I step out of the car and look back at Alek.
“Everything will be sorted for you by tomorrow. Go inside and get some sleep,” he commands.
The car door is closed for me, and Alek drives away. I’m left to stare up at the hotel, wondering what the fuck just happened.
CHAPTER 15
Aleksandr
Iclean up my knives, feeling rather disappointed. Harold Spencer, who is tied to the chair and gagged, gave up his information way too freely. Unfortunately, it checks out with everything I already know about Cinita’s last moves.
I’m not in the habit of leaving loose ends—the dead can’t talk, after all—but considering he’s also a client of our auctions, it’s good business to keep him around to continue filling our pockets. At least that’s what I’ll have him believe for now.
I remove his gag, doing my best not to touch his face.
“You know I hired her for only one night to dance. That’s it,” he says. I know this because he’s already told me as much. Cinita had performed for him two weeks ago, which means she’s most likely still in New York. “She can’t love anyone. That woman is empty. You believe me, right, Alek?” he says, breathlessly.
The sound of clicking heels makes its way toward me, and I turn to see Anya and River walking in. Her bodyguards, Clay and Vance, are only a few steps behind.
“Couldn’t choose a reasonable hour of the morning to conduct business?” she asks indignantly. But I know she has issues sleeping, just as I do. Or maybe that’s changed since River.
“Miss Ivanov?” Harold pales at the sight of her. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding with all of this.”
“Are there misunderstandings when it comes to late payments?” She raises a brow at him.
No, because we only understand money, blood, and business.
“Did you get all the information you needed from him?” she asks me, looking at her manicured nails.
I didn’t tell her what I really wanted to discuss with him, using the fact that he can’t make his payment because he’s drained his newfound fortune that he received from his father’s inheritance as an excuse to question him about Cinita.
He’s bleeding from a few gashes I’ve made, but they’re nothing life threatening. Yet. “Yes, I did. He doesn’t have the money.”
“Wait. What?” Harold says, hopping in his chair. “I can get it. I can get it.”
“You’ve had two weeks, Harold,” Anya says sweetly. “Also, it appears my husband has an issue with you personally.”
Harold turns a shade paler. River gets a crazed look in his eyes as he steps forward. “Did you try to sell photos of my wife? You see, she can be careless at times with her nudity.”