Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Lindsey’s funeral’s tomorrow,” I say, my voice barely audible.
“Are you going?” Ledger asks me.
“Of course, I am. I was her boss. It’s because of me she’s dead,” I snap.
Greer touches my arm, her brown eyes filled with worry. “You can’t keep blaming yourself.”
I shake my head. “But it’s my fault. If they never worked there. If…” I pause and consider whether I should place a moratorium on hiring any girls until this investigation gleans more information or the murders stop.
“This has nothing to do with you. I’m sure of it,” Greer says with a soft smile that she wears like a mask to hide the truth. The truth being that it is all my fault.
“What’s up with that new girl? You sure got pissed when I got too close.” The glint in Roman’s eyes makes me edgy.
“Don’t touch her,” I warn. I practically see the words hanging in the air before I realize I’ve uttered them.
Roman looks offended. “I’ve never touched one of the Greedy Girls.” He glances at Greer.
Greer rolls her eyes. “Sure.”
Roman puts a hand across his chest. “Cross my heart, I never have.”
I step closer to Roman. “She’s off-limits.” I have no reason to even say these things about Swan. She’s not mine. She’s Tanner’s. Lucky fucking bastard.
Roman lifts his hands in surrender. “I don’t plan on touching a thing.”
“Sorry, man,” I apologize for getting into his face and business. Normally, I’ve never cared if the twins partake in the action going on every night in my club. “You can touch whoever you want.” My hands ball into fists. “But not right now. Not while all of this shit is going on.”
Roman nods. “I meant what I said. I’ve had a lot of fun at your club, but never with the staff.” He leans against the counter. “But this girl you hired isn’t like the rest of them.”
I cross my arms over my chest. “What do you mean?”
“Well, she seems pure or something.” He snags a piece of bacon from the plate Greer places on the counter.
Greer smacks his hand. “Brunch is ready. Let’s head outside.” She ushers us all out of the kitchen, trying to lighten the mood as she places dishes in each of our hands to assist her in carrying the food outside. My sister’s done a complete spread—French toast, bacon, scrambled eggs, toast, fruit, even chicken salad on croissants—and it’s amazing how she can pull it all together. I’m a train wreck in the kitchen and it’s why I employ a personal chef to do the cooking. Most nights, I eat at the club. Alone.
Roman pulls out the chair for Greer, and she takes a seat, thanking him. Once we’re all settled, I glance around the table, thanking the universe that I have these people in my life.
The Thorne twins grew up down the street from us. They stayed at our house more than their own. I don’t blame them. If I had their mother, I would’ve never stayed home either.
Isn’t it funny? I had the greatest mother in the world, but she checked out of life early and committed suicide. Whereas the twins had a shit mom who didn’t care if they were breathing and she’s still around, healthy as an ox.
Life’s unfair in those kinds of ways.
Ledger and Roman have had my back for as long as I can remember, and there’s not a damn thing I wouldn’t do for the two of them.
After Mom died, and my father was too busy to care for us properly, I took on the responsibility of caring for Greer. She was fourteen and could pretty much take care of herself, but I still watched over her. She’s thirty-two, only three years younger than me, and she’s still the same way. Yet, I still feel that older-brother need to protect her.
Perhaps because I couldn’t protect my mother.
“I heard your office is taking on a big case,” Roman says to Greer, snapping me back to the present.
Greer scoops some scrambled eggs onto her plate. “Mikhail Popov. He’s charged with killing Sven Kuzmin. Have any of you heard of it?”
I know the trial they’re talking about, but not the details.
“Russian mob stuff?” Ledger asks.
Greer nods. “I’m the lead council, and it’s a sticky situation. The D.A. is putting on the pressure to get him convicted and into the system. I’m not sure who’s gunning for him, but I know Mikhail worked for Igor Ivanov.”
My chest sinks at the sound of that man’s name. “There’s a major war happening between the Ivanov family and the Chekov family.”
“Didn’t Sven Kuzmin work for Yuri?” Roman asks.
I nod. “I think so.” Yuri Chekov runs the Chekov mob family and is an acquaintance of mine. I don’t normally deal with Russian mob bosses, but Yuri’s sons are members, and I always treat my members well.