Total pages in book: 79
Estimated words: 75287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 75287 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 376(@200wpm)___ 301(@250wpm)___ 251(@300wpm)
“I do.”
“I have an idea,” he says. “We’re still a few weeks away from Marissa having the baby. Why don’t you take Taara away for a little while? Just the two of you. Head to the mountains or beach or something.”
I shake my head. “Not now,” I tell him. “But thank you, I’ll think about it.”
He nods. “Anytime.”
Today, the entire brotherhood is here, as well as conference calls joining us with the rest of Tomas’s crew in Boston and Demyan’s in Moscow. We have to deal with the aftermath of what happened in Russia and decide where this leaves us. I take my place at the front of the room and sit at the head of the table. My brothers join me.
“Welcome, to the pakhan of both Boston and our sister group, Moscow,” I say. The men clap their hands in greeting, then silence descends on the room. “We need to debrief all of you as to what happened in Moscow and where this leaves us.”
The meeting is well underway within minutes. Tomas confirms that those in America who were undercover for the slave trade have taken down the operation, the most duplicitous among them now in jail. He assures us that because he and I did not partake in the trade and are on record for denouncing any connection with the group, as well as being responsible for the ending of the trade in America, we will not be subjected to the legal prosecution the others face.
Demyan explains that the Thieves have extended peace, and they’ve formed a solid alliance with the Moscow brotherhood. “That strengthens the power we hold in Russia,” he says. “And now that the corrupt leaders of their organization have been outed, they no longer pose a threat.”
“That isn’t the only threat against us,” one of my men says. “The last time we convened, you were taking Taara Khan as prisoner because she witnessed an execution.”
“Yes,” I say. “Taara has proven her loyalty to us.” I tell them at length what she did in Moscow, how she put herself on the line. And to my surprise, Demyan shows them footage from Taara’s undercover job.
“I believe she is an innocent,” Nicolai says. “I no longer believe she is a threat to any of us.”
I can see in my men’s faces that his words carry weight. He’s earned creditability as their leader in my absence, and as the leader now. Though I’m still pakhan, they know he is the future of our brotherhood.
“As do I,” says Demyan.
“And I,” says Tomas.
My throat tightens at the show of allegiance, at their defense of Taara.
“Taara Khan is not only innocent, there’s something you should know,” I say, getting to my feet. “I love her. She belongs to me. And as such, you will all treat her with the respect due to a woman of the Bratva.”
They murmur in agreement and nod their heads. My chest expands with pride, and I swallow hard. “As you know, she’s lost her mother. We will bury her with the highest honors and take care of Taara.”
We conclude the meeting taking care of all orders of business, and I’m confident my men will honor me in this. Taara is not a threat. She is one of our own.
Now I just need to convince her of the very same.
Chapter 20
Taara
The days pass in a blur. We bury my mother’s ashes, and Stefan sees to it that she’s given high honors, her funeral and arrangements made with painstaking care. It’s beautiful. It’s brutally painful.
I am so thankful for Marissa, Caroline, and Larissa, for all they’ve done for me and helped me with. But though my heart aches for the loss of my mother, I long for connection with Stefan again.
Nothing’s been the same since we returned here from Russia. He touches me with concern and tenderness… but like a brother.
Is that all he is to me?
At first, I wonder if he’s giving me some space, knowing that I’m grieving the loss of my mother. But as the days go on, and he doesn’t give me anything more than the most platonic affection, I wonder.
Has he moved on? Is he no longer interested in me at all?
It’s the weirdest kind of break up in history, because it’s a break up that never happened. We share the same bed. He holds me and tucks me in and kisses my cheek or forehead tenderly. But I want more. I want so, so much more.
I haven’t called him daddy since the day my mother died.
And I want to. I want to so badly my throat gets all tight when I think about it. But there’s a chasm between us that feels miles wide, and I don’t know how to bridge it.
I feel helpless to make the first move. If he rejects me, it will kill me. I don’t think I’d survive the pain of that. How could I? I’ve never loved anyone as I love him.