Total pages in book: 92
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86238 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 431(@200wpm)___ 345(@250wpm)___ 287(@300wpm)
“Then make it contract,” Ghost demands, his voice a roar.
“I can’t,” replies the man of tiny stature but wide girth. “Not here. She needs a full hysterectomy.” When his announcement leaves us speechless, he adds, “We don’t have time to waste. We must act quickly.”
“Tell him,” I suggest to Ghost, turning to face him. “He loved her enough once to marry her, so maybe he’ll let her go for this.”
“But that will put Lera in his sights. If she leaves…” he locks his eyes with his sister, who is as white as the name that never graced a birth certificate, “… his targets will hone in on Lera.”
“Then we’ll give him someone else to set his focus on.” If looks could kill, I’d be a dead man. “Not Kate.” I drag my hand down my body. “He fuckin’ hates me and would give anything to kill me.” I smile like a smug prick. “But he can’t. My mafia lineage is a fuck-ton smaller than yours, but notable enough Kirill can’t touch me.” My reply hasn’t lessened the grooves between his brows in the slightest. “So, give him me. If you don’t return with Sofia in…” I shift my focus to the doctor. “How long will she be out?”
“A day. Two at most.”
I angle my head back to Ghost. “If she’s not back by tomorrow night, I’ll sign my own fucking death certificate.”
This is cocky as fuck for me to admit, but I’m not experiencing an ounce of fear from my reply. Ghost will come back for me as much as he would Sofia and Lera. It is why my face is unmarked while his wears the effects of it being blown to shreds. He threw himself onto a grenade rolling across the room, meaning I remained unscathed while his body took the full brunt of the explosion.
Ghost isn’t on board with my plans. “Do it here.”
“I can’t.” The doctor’s apologetic tone is the only thing keeping him alive. “With unsterile equipment, her death will switch from fast and relatively painless to slow and agonizing.”
His honesty gets Ghost over the line. “I hope your calendar is empty because you’re going to spend the next twenty-four hours twiddling your thumbs in Kirill’s office.”
Kirill is a cunt.
There is no kinder word for him.
He refused Ghost’s request to take Sofia out of the compound purely to be a prick, then sat at the side of her room, watching the doctor perform a vaginal hysterectomy with the most basic of equipment all to fuck with Ghost’s head.
He didn’t even look at his son lying dead on his first wife’s bed. He was hardly human, but he has hands, feet, and genitals that make no fucking sense when it comes to Kirill’s madness about wanting a son. He wants an heir, but he could literally not care less that his wife just miscarried his son at five months’ gestation.
It makes no fucking sense.
“I’m sorry. I’ve done everything I can. I’m not sure what else I can do.” This is the point Ghost’s gun would usually be squashed against the doctor’s temple, but the humility he has displayed to Sofia and her unborn baby keeps his brain in his skull. “It is just a waiting game now.”
Ghost dips his chin before moving to the side of Sofia’s bed to replace her dry washcloth with a wet one. He’s here, but not, if that makes any sense, and there is no better proof of that than his murmured comment, “Alek will show you the way out.”
The doctor appears as surprised as me while he gathers up his things.
“Leave him,” I grumble when his focus shifts to a bundle of towels at the foot of Sofia’s bed. “I’ll take care of him.” In our industry, that usually means something completely different than how I’m referencing it this time around.
The doctor mimics Ghost’s head bob before he follows me out of the compound.
An hour later, I bury a second unnamed child in the Bobrov garden.
6
ANASTASIA
“Eve, you’ve got a new whale.”
I place down my client’s order, grimacing when he hands me a measly two-dollar tip before spinning to face Jax. The tops in this strip club leave more to the imagination than The Penthouse, but not by much. My nipples are covered with thin latex triangles instead of metal tassels that clanged together every time I took a step.
When my eyes meet with Jax’s across the room, I’m tempted to sprint for the exit. My tips tonight won’t make a dent in my father’s debt, but it might pay half of the groceries the man being guided to the private booths purchased against my wishes.
The only reason I don’t is because this is the first time I’ve seen Alek in days. The last time he failed to chase me down saw us not seeing each other for four years, and it has me wondering if Yev’s claims that he’s never moved on from me are true.