Total pages in book: 172
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 155984 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 780(@200wpm)___ 624(@250wpm)___ 520(@300wpm)
Maybe everything Mitya said was the truth, but that didn’t stop Sevastyan from wanting to rip his face off. Or have the satisfaction of punching his fist right through his mouth and feel the familiar crunch of teeth breaking.
“You still should have made that acknowledgment, Mitya,” Sevastyan said, not knowing why it was so important Mitya understand that someone had to see him. Just one damn person.
Mitya regarded him for a long time in silence and then he finally shook his head. “You don’t get it, Sevastyan. I’ve acknowledged you from the moment I found out your mother was pregnant with you. I acknowledged you when I took care of you and he hurt our mothers. I have always acknowledged you. I’ve always known you were my brother. I’ve always looked out for you, whether you thought so or not. I might not be the best at showing it, or saying it, but you’re my brother and no one is going to harm you while I’m around. Why the hell do you think I made such an ass of myself around Flambé?”
The pressure in Sevastyan’s chest was like a great stone pressing down on him. Mitya had no more of an idea of how to have a relationship than he did. They were the most dysfunctional family there was.
“Does Ania know?”
“That you’re my brother, not my cousin?” Mitya scowled at him. “I don’t hide anything from Ania that I don’t have to. Especially when it comes to my family. Of course she knows. She loves you, even if you’re as fucked-up as hell and you order us all around.”
Sevastyan’s phone buzzed and he pulled it free of his pocket just as strobes flashed a warning through the office. He glanced down at the warning text on his phone. “Take Ania and get to the safe room. I’ll keep you informed. The cameras should be working so you should have live feed, both visual and audio. Don’t come out for any reason. I’ve got this.”
He turned away and then stopped, not turning back. “Something happens to me, you take care of her. Flambé. You make certain she’s safe and happy, Mitya. Give me your word.”
“You have it, Sevastyan.”
15
SEVASTYAN texted one-handed to alert Kirill and Matvei that Rolan’s first wave of attackers were making their move. He wanted them inside the house and to double-check that the house was locked down with Flambé inside. He texted Flambé next.
Trouble starting here, baby. Rolan is bringing it. Stay inside and be safe.
He waited, his heart beating hard. He shouldn’t have left her behind.
Am inside our room. Will be fine. You be safe, Sevastyan.
At least she’d given him that much. He hurried to the control room where two relatively new employees manned the screens. Both were Evangeline’s brothers. Ambroise Tregre served in the Navy and was an up-and-coming artist. He seemed a dreamer, a man Sevastyan would have thought useless when it came to security, but Tregre never forgot a single detail once he saw something. He had a photographic memory. More, he was astonishing with computers.
Christophe Tregre, after a stint in the service, had trained with an elite unit of Drake’s in the Borneo rain forest but returned to ensure his younger brother and sister were safe from his treacherous father and uncle. He then began training in the security force under Timur. He had excellent fighting skills, but not as much experience as Sevastyan would like. He was Fyodor’s brother-in-law, which meant he was sacred. Family. Sevastyan wasn’t going to put him at risk if he could help it. Christophe was a strategist, a good one. So, he was in the control room.
Sevastyan leaned over his shoulder. “What are we looking at? Rolan wouldn’t throw his best men at us yet. He’s testing us.”
“He’s testing us with some pretty heavy numbers,” Christophe replied. “He’s got five teams coming in. The way they’re moving, they look like shifters to me. Where would he manage to get that many?”
“Mercenaries. Rolan has money. He can pay top dollar.” Sevastyan should know, he’d helped to earn it. He kept his eyes glued to the screens. One team was moving in the trees, running along the branches, still in human form, but Christophe was right, they were too sure-footed in the trees carrying their weapons to be anything but shifters. “He must have been in Houston to pick them up off ships coming in. These men aren’t from around here. He’s recruited them from other places.”
Sevastyan studied the shifters moving in the trees. They ran along the branches almost without looking. These men had honed their skills in the rain forests. He texted Kyanite Boston, a man who had spent several years with Drake Donovan in the rain forest rescuing kidnapping victims. Kyanite came immediately, slipping into the control room silently, coming to stand to the side of him to look at the same screen.