Total pages in book: 88
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 83818 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 419(@200wpm)___ 335(@250wpm)___ 279(@300wpm)
“Strange how he cut your arm. Why not somewhere more vulnerable?” If I were slashing to really hurt or kill, I’d have gone for the back or neck. “This might need stitches.”
She nods. “Fine. You have what you need in that kit?”
I look at her in surprise. Jesus, she’s ready for me to stitch her fucking arm here? With nothing but whiskey and vodka to numb the pain? These Colombian women are made of goddamn steel.
I shake my head. “No, we’ll get you home.”
Renata lifts her chin and clenches her jaw.
“You can bring me back to The Cove, but it will never be my home.”
That’s what she thinks. She’s mine now, and soon, she’ll be my wife.
Her home is where I am.
“Right,” I mutter, taking my seat next to her. I call Isabella and Lev to fill them in.
“Well done,” Isabella says. “Are you sure she’s alright?”
“Yeah. It was strange, and they left really quickly, so maybe he just wanted us to know he hasn’t forgotten us.”
“Mmm,” Isabella says. “Or something else.”
“When we get back, I’ll talk with Aria.” My oldest brother’s wife, Aria, is a world-class hacker and computer whiz. The woman’s insanely intelligent and capable of finding people and places invisible to the rest of us mere mortals.
“Good idea. We should step up security back at The Cove too.”
“One hundred percent.”
“Ollie, one more thing,” Lev says as the plane begins to taxi down the runway.
“Yeah?”
“You let us worry about your landing and security when you get back. We’ll have a team waiting for you. Before you get back to your house, we’ll have you stationed at a safe house.”
I shake my head. “No. I want to go home. I’ve got this.”
I watch Isabella and Lev engage in a subdued conversation. The tension is palpable.
Finally, Isabella breaks the silence, her tone decisive. “Mikhail will make the final decision.”
Lev nods, his expression resolute. Before I can respond, Isabella turns her attention to me, her gaze sharp and unwavering.
“Ollie, we’ll handle security details. Your sole focus right now is handling Renata.”
I look over at her. Her eyes are locked onto mine, a silent plea for assurance.
In that moment, the weight of responsibility feels heavier than it’s ever been… but I’m more resolved to do exactly what I’ve been commissioned to do.
Handle Renata.
CHAPTER SIX
Renata
One thing Ollie doesn’t know about me but will soon learn—I cannot hold my liquor. Fortunately, Isabella, the only person who does know, isn’t here.
The flight from Colombia to The Cove is a good six hours, and I fully plan on sleeping the entire way. But even though the shots he gave me are thrumming through my veins, the pain relievers haven’t kicked in yet, and my arm is fucking throbbing.
I won’t give him the satisfaction of knowing I’m in pain though.
Or would it even be satisfaction at this point? He looked genuinely concerned about me back there, as if this twisted marriage was more than just a strategy, more than just a means to an end. But I know better. This isn’t love—it’s survival.
Ollie. The name alone cuts like a blade. I have to look away, to force myself to breathe, because if I don’t, I’ll remember how it felt to trust him. To want him. It’s a temptation I can’t afford.
A pang hits my heart, and I have to look away to compose myself. There was a time when we’d swiftly become each other’s confidants, and I’d give anything to have that back.
I hate that my brother has forced me into a position of looking like a goddamn traitor to the two people I actually care about. I hate that he’s turned me into this—an outsider in every world I belong to.
I stifle a sigh. Sometimes, I wish I wasn’t so good at detecting truth and lies. This might all be easier if I didn’t know he cares about me.
My brother wanted me to know that he’s watching. He wants me to remember what I promised, and he wants me to know—one slip up, and Ollie’s a dead man.
I close my eyes and fight against the well of fear that threatens to consume me whole. I don’t know how I’m going to get out of this.
“How’s the pain?” Ollie sits next to me.
I shrug and don’t answer. For a minute, I feel as if I do, I’m actually going to cry.
Unlike me, covered in dirt and blood, my hair askew as if I had just walked head-on through a wind tunnel, Ollie looks perfect.
He always looks perfect.
I swear to God, the Romanov men could be models, and it is not fair. Gods among mortals. Strong genes in that family which probably has something to do with their status in The Cove. They get everything they want—King Midas with his golden touch. Everywhere they go, women fall all over themselves, trying to get them to look their way. It isn’t fair, really. Filthy rich and the picture of ancient gods?