Total pages in book: 247
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 248926 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 1245(@200wpm)___ 996(@250wpm)___ 830(@300wpm)
And. . .Lunita was part of me too.
Perhaps, I should get to know her.
Chapter 15
The Meeting
Kazimir
In the conference room, eight men stood around me with their arms full of garments—pants, shirts, ties, coats, and belts. Five more stood behind them holding shoes. They all had been following me around the hotel for the past hour, carrying their designated items.
So far I'd put on black pants and a black shirt. Both fit snug, not hiding an inch of muscle.
I buttoned up my shirt.
The plan will work.
My men placed leather chairs around the long conference table, speaking in hushed tones. Fear lined their faces.
Due to being on David's shit list, Wassily wiped the table's surface with a soft cloth, probably making sure that no smudge or speck of dirt would exist.
Others set glasses and pitchers of juice and tumblers of water on a small table across the room.
More carried in pots of steaming hot tea and coffee.
Where is she? What did Maxwell and her talk about? Is she okay after it?
Pressure built in my chest.
Two women from Harlem Crew held trays. Different sugars and creams with tons of tiny spoons sat on one tray. Cookies, brownies, and tiny sandwiches cut into triangles rested on the other.
Stress lingered in the air mingling with the aroma of coffee.
Two men carried a massive flat screen into the room. It must have been at least six feet wide and long. They placed it against the wall and plugged it in.
David saw me watching them in confusion. "I thought Misha should attend."
I nodded and returned to my Garment Bearers.
Dishes clinked all around me. The low hum of whispers bounced off the walls and hit my ears. And my head throbbed in annoyance.
Where the hell is everybody?!
My lack of sleep was kicking in, making me grumpy.
I longed for the peace of my warm bed. I imagined my mouse naked and lying next to me. Her brown skin shimmering in the light of a perfect full moon. Her long hair spread across the pillow, begging me to twirl it around my fingers.
Disrupting my thoughts, three men brought in a platter of croissants and various jars of jellies, loudly chuckling about something.
"That's enough!" I growled. "Are we having a tea party?!"
The men froze in the center of the room, still holding the platters.
David gestured for them to leave and then turned to Wassily. "Get the Lion a large cup of coffee."
He hurried to the small table across from us.
I finished buttoning my shirt and gazed at the guys holding hangers of jackets. "Get over here."
They came closer and raised the jackets higher in the air as if that were going to help me pick better.
Ten men rushed in.
Frowning, I put my attention on them. "Are you done evacuating?"
One nodded.
"Put the bombs in place."
They hurried away.
I glared back at the men holding jackets. "Where are the ties?"
Two men bumped into the others and spread out their arms. All types of ties dangled from their hangers—various patterns and colors.
One of the tie holders interrupted my thought process. "I think. . ."
Scowling, I looked at him.
David turned his way.
Mr. Tie Holder cleared his throat and gave me an awkward smile. "I think the blue tie would go well with the black shirt and pants."
I pictured myself taking the blue tie off the hanger, wrapping it tightly around his throat, and strangling the life out of him. In my mind, his eyes bulged. His pale flesh shifted to red as he lost consciousness.
Surely, the emotion registered on my face because he stepped back and widened his eyes.
"Perhaps, there's no need for a tie this morning." David motioned for him to leave.
He raced out so fast a few ties fell to the ground. Another rushed to pick them up.
I went back to the jackets.
David watched me. "Are you sure about this?"
I grabbed a black jacket and put it on. "Nothing is certain in war, but it's a good Plan B."
Wassily brought over a cup of coffee and handed it to me.
Nodding, I took it. The black liquid swirled with cream. A small line of steam rose carrying a rich vanilla aroma.
Wassily left.
David looked at me. "Many could die from Plan B."
"That's the point." I brought the cup to my mouth and took a sip. The coffee had a strong bite. Heat and bitterness spread across my tongue and ended with a sugary vanilla flavor.
This will do for now.
I headed away several feet to the large window behind the table.
The men holding my garments followed and surrounded me. Most kept the hangers in the air, creating a wall of fabric around me.
Groaning, I took another sip. "David."
He got to my side. "Yes."
"If you do not get rid of them, I will throw all of them out of the window."
David smirked. "The Lion is dressed. You can go."