Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78511 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 393(@200wpm)___ 314(@250wpm)___ 262(@300wpm)
Meaning if my father refuses to let us be together, Misha will just take me.
“Do I have a choice in the matter?” I ask.
He raises an eyebrow. “Do you want a choice?”
I think for a moment, my teeth tugging at my bottom lip.
If I’m forced to choose between my family and Misha… could I make such a big life-changing decision?
I’d choose Misha, but my guilt of abandoning my family would make me miserable.
His palm rests against my cheek, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. “That’s why I’m making the decision for you, moy malen'kiy olen'.”
Even though I know it will be a waste of time to even try, I say, “I could talk to my father.”
Misha shakes his head. “We both know he won’t listen.” He’s quiet for a moment, then he says, “Viktor has a condition.”
“What?”
“Your father has to submit to the bratva.”
My eyes widen, and I shake my head. “So we can’t be together until that happens?”
No.
Misha’s eyes are intense as they bore into mine. “Things might get ugly when I talk to him.”
“Ugly…as in…” my words trail away.
“One of us might not walk out of the meeting,” he spells it out for me.
Pushing away from Misha, I climb off the bed and walk to the bathroom. I shut the door, and pressing my forehead to the wood, I take deep breaths.
My emotions are all over the place.
I can’t lose Misha. Or my father.
My mother would never forgive me.
I have to do something.
When I go home for my mom’s birthday, I’ll just have to face my father. I’ll tell him I love Misha, and I’ll beg him to submit to the bratva.
Jesus, that’s such a bad idea.
There’s a knock at the door, then Misha says, “Open, Krasivaya.”
I close my eyes, and taking a deep breath, I pull the door open. When I look up at Misha, his eyes are filled with concern.
“Why is my little deer hiding?” He steps into the doorway, and lifting a hand, his fingers wrap around the side of my neck.
My features tighten as I admit, “I hate that I might have to choose between you and my family.”
“I told you I’ll handle it.”
“Yes, but one of you might end up dead,” I exclaim.
Misha yanks me toward him, and pressing his forehead to mine, he says, “I’ll do my best to avoid bloodshed.”
“But my father won’t,” I whimper. Pressing close to Misha, I wrap my arms around him. “This isn’t fair.”
“Nothing in our world is fair, moy malen'kiy olen'. You know this.” The palm of his hand brushes over my hair. “Just leave everything to me.”
Tired of trying to solve this problem, I nod. For the moment, I choose to focus on Misha.
“I love you, mio principe.”
Misha places a finger beneath my chin, and nudging my face up, he looks deep into my eyes. “You are mine. I won’t let anything come between us.”
“What if Viktor changes his mind?”
Misha shakes his head. “Viktor is a man of his word. He won’t.”
It makes me feel a little better to hear that.
Misha presses a tender kiss to my lips. “I love you so fucking much I’ll kill to protect you and steal to keep you.”
Pushing up on my tiptoes, I slam my mouth against his.
Misha wraps an arm around me, then I’m lifted from my feet and carried into the shower, where he makes me forget about my problems.
Chapter 28
Misha
Sitting at a table in the dining hall, I keep watching the entrance for Aurora and Abbie.
It will be the first time we’re all having dinner together, and I want it to go well.
Glancing at Alek, I say, “This is important to me. Behave.”
With his finger above his head, he circles a halo.
“You’re the furthest thing from an angel,” Armani chuckles.
The women come in, and I get up to pull out a chair for Aurora.
Alek just reaches over and yanks the chair back for Abbie, “Sit your ass down, woman. I’m starving.”
“Be still my beating heart,” Abbie mutters.
I press a kiss to my woman’s forehead, then wait for her to take a seat before I get comfortable next to her.
Abbie waves a server closer, and with her eyes glued to the menu, she orders, “I want calamari with lemon butter, the fifty-hour-cooked beef short rib, and thhhhe…”
“Iisus Khristos,” Alek mutters. “Just bring her the whole fucking menu.”
Abbie shoots a scowl at Alek. “Shut up.” A sweet smile curves her lips as she turns her attention back to the server. “And I’ll have a serving of fries.”
Just as Alek gets ready to order, Abbie adds, “Oh, and a sprite zero, please.”
“Seriously?” Alek stares at the woman as if she has two heads. “Diet soda won’t help shit when you eat so much.”
Abbie’s eyes narrow on Alek. “Are you calling me fat?”
His eyes drift over her, then the corner of his mouth lifts. “No.”