Total pages in book: 127
Estimated words: 120955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 120955 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 403(@300wpm)
“Say it,” he says again. “Tell me I’m a cold-blooded murderer and a monster. That’s what you’re thinking.”
It’s not. I clench my fingers around the glass. I don’t know what I’m thinking. I thought shady business dealings involved handing money under the table to secure a few deals, not this. Yet despite what he’s admitted, I can’t label the man who conquered my heart a monster. The man who worshipped my body is not cold-blooded. The man who’s paying for my mother’s treatment isn’t an uncaring psychopath.
“What’s the matter, Katyusha?” Despite his arrogant smile, a flash of vulnerability passes over his face. “If you can’t handle the truth, you shouldn’t have asked for it.”
“Shouldn’t you have delivered him to the police?”
“Sometimes, my beautiful kiska, you can be so naïve.” He leans down, resting one hand on the armrest of the sofa and brushing a curl behind my ear with the other. “But that’s what I love about you.”
“The police—”
“Are corrupt in my country.” He straightens. “The bratva owns them.”
“All of them?”
“Most of them. More often than not, they act as double agents, not only reporting back to the underworld bosses but also conveniently losing evidence or witnesses.”
My throat tightens. “The police in the States—”
“The bratva has government officials from all over the world in its pockets. So does every man with enough money,” he says in a harsh voice. “Same goes for successful Russian companies. Connections are essential both for success and survival. I don’t trust anyone but myself. It would be stupid to do so.” He leans closer again, resting his palms on either side of me on the sofa and trapping me between his arms. “I killed that man not because he was a threat to me, but because he touched you. And I’ll kill any other man who lays a hand on you. I’ll kill any motherfucker who as much as tries. Understand?”
I flinch at the outburst, my heart crumbling even as conflicting emotions battle inside me.
Alex killed to protect me. I can never condone his behavior, but yes, I understand what he’s telling me. He’s saying that this is his world and I’m a part of it now, whether I want that or not. He’s reminding me that I no longer have a choice. That I never had one.
It’s a lot to take in, but I did ask for it, and I don’t shy away from the facts.
In the space of two days, I’ve come to realize that the assault on Alex’s life isn’t over. I’ve learned that my life is in danger, and therefore the lives of anyone connected to me. I’ve had my freedom and my choices stripped away. Most importantly, I’ve come to understand that Alex won’t let me go. Not now, and not ever. And the part that hits me the hardest?
This isn’t love for him. It can’t be. At best, it’s obsession.
Alex straightens. “If you have nothing to say, I suggest we go to bed. It’s been a long day.”
It has been. My head feels on the verge of exploding. But caring for someone can’t be switched on and off with the press of a button. The nurse in me has to ask, “What about you? Are you all right? Did you get hurt?”
He smooths a palm over my hair and rubs a curl between his fingers. “Do you know why I was so attracted to you that first day when I saw you fighting to save Igor’s life? Apart from the fact that it was impossible not to notice such a beautiful face and the alluring body under your clothes.”
At a loss for words, I can only stare at him.
“You were so focused, so dedicated,” he continues, “that you didn’t even notice the other people in the room. You only had one goal, and that was to save the life of a critically wounded man. Gunshot wounds are related to criminal activities more often than not. You didn’t ask what Igor had done. You didn’t care if he was a bad man deserving of death. You saved him without casting judgment. As I watched, I wondered if you were some kind of angel.” His gaze is intent on my face. “You fascinated me, Katherine Morrell. That kind of goodness was new to me.” Slowly, he traces the line of my jaw. “Do you want to know something else? I was jealous of Igor. I was jealous of the dedication and care you gave him. I wanted you to care for me. I wanted the angel all to myself. I needed to know if you were for real.” He gives me a soft smile. “And then I took you to dinner and to bed and discovered that’s just who you are—pure and beautiful.”
My breath catches at the admission. He’s placing me on a pedestal, raising me to a level I don’t deserve. “I’m not an angel, Alex.”