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)
Khristos.
Polina covers her mouth with her hand and giggles. “He likes you.”
I grunt and hold the pup in front of me. “Listen up, King Arthur. You’re not allowed in here until you know where to do your business. You’ll learn to obey, and soon.” I take him by the scruff of the neck and give him a little shake. “Understand?”
He predictably licks my hand.
“You clearly instilled the fear of God in him,” Renata says approvingly behind me.
“Morning, sunshine,” Polina says. “Are you joining us for practice?”
Renata looks at me, and I give her a reluctant nod. “This one time, and only because of what you said you needed to do.”
She grins at me and takes off the robe, revealing workout clothes underneath. I was totally played. I narrow my eyes at her but can’t resist that shit-eating grin she gives me.
“You and King Arthur can bond, and I’ll be back in a bit,” she says, heading for the door.
“We’ll join you.” Polina snaps a leash on the pup and pats his fuzzy little head. I put him on the floor, and he trots beside us with an almost majestic air as if he knows he’s been crowned royalty.
I hold his leash firmly by my side. “Heel, boy.” When he gives me a lopsided grin, I frown at him. “Behave. This is not fun and games. You are supposed to be protecting her.” I point to Renata. “You get that?”
He wriggles his little butt and barks, though it sounds a little more like a squeak than anything.
We’ve got some work to do.
When we reach the training room, Isabella stands in front of the girls wearing a tight tube top and workout shorts. She’s starting to show and isn’t afraid to flaunt it.
When Isabella married Lev, she said the women in our family needed self-defense classes. She wasn’t wrong. We’re a newer group, under new leadership, with my brother taking the reins in the wake of my father’s death. We’ve focused our energies on protecting our family and putting down solid roots. Teaching the women self-defense was not a priority, but it has been helpful.
Renata hangs back. It’s unlike her to be shy.
“Go on,” I urge her. When she gives me a quick glance, I reassure her. “You belong there, Renata. Go.” I give her a hint of a nudge in that direction.
She takes a deep breath, steadying herself as she faces the mirror in the training room. Isabella knows she’s there but, at first, doesn’t acknowledge her.
The afternoon sun filters through the high windows, casting a warm glow on the exercise mats spread across the floor. I stand in the doorway with the pup, who’s fallen asleep against my foot, snoring softly. I lean back farther so I can watch in quiet, folding my arms across my chest. Watching.
I want her fully capable of defending herself, but she’s right—she and Isabella need this. Their combined forces will be so much more powerful. Renata adjusts her stance, mirroring Isabella’s actions.
“Relax your shoulders,” Isabella snaps. “You’re too tense.”
Renata exhales, following her advice.
“Not like that.” Isabella’s voice is sharper now, and I can see Renata stiffen from here.
“Like this?” Renata adjusts again, but it’s evident she’s frustrated.
Isabella steps closer, her eyes hard on Renata as the other women here—Aleksandr’s Harper, Mikhail’s Aria, and Polina—continue the drill. “You have to be precise. Control your breathing. Don’t just follow my movements like a robot. Understand them. Make them yours.”
Renata’s face flushes. I know her well enough to know she’s fighting both embarrassment and anger. “I’m trying, Isabella.”
“Try harder,” Isabella retorts, her tone unyielding. “Do you think an enemy will wait for you to get it right? You think half-assing it will cut it?”
Renata’s fists clench. “Of course not. I’m not stupid.”
“Then show me!” Isabella’s voice rises as she shoves Renata’s shoulder. “Prove it!”
I clench my own fists but hold myself back.
Something snaps in Renata. “Enough!” she yells. “I’m not half-assing anything.” She shoves Isabella back with a force that seems to surprise them both.
For a moment, they stand still, staring at each other before they both spring into action. There’s precision in Renata’s strikes, a power that catches Isabella off guard. She’s forced to defend herself vigorously.
“There you go,” she says with reluctant pride as they continue to spar. “That’s it, Renata. You’re fierce. I know where you come from. I know who you are. Fucking prove it.”
They move as one, sparring, blow after blow, following until Isabella calls for a halt, her palm in the air. Both of the women are heaving from the exhaustion, their hair wild and untamed. Renata’s clings to her damp neck.
“Better,” Isabella says. “Control your emotions when you fight. Anger can be powerful, but it can be your downfall if you don’t pace yourself.”
Renata nods, more subdued. “I get it.”
“You’re getting the hang of this.”