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)
As much as it pisses me off to admit this, he is not an opponent we can win against.
We’re not exactly sure what Kirill’s next step will be, but until he trips up and gets himself pushed out from underneath Henry’s umbrella, we can’t fucking touch him. Ghost’s punishment won’t just fall on his shoulders if we do. His entire lineage will be eradicated—cousins, uncles, aunts, sisters. Fucking anyone with a droplet of his blood—including Sofia and Lera.
Ghost stops swinging when I say, “He will fuck up, G. He can’t help himself. He’s way too fucking cocky, and it will have him making a mistake.”
While he grips the sink the doctors scrub their hands at, he sucks in long, ragged breaths.
He’s broken.
Lost.
But he’s got something more to fight for now than a long-lost sister and niece.
After a beat, he loosens his grip, allowing his knuckles to once again fill with blood before he shifts on his feet to face me. “Until then, we go for Anastasia.”
When he drifts his eyes to the dark-haired man I learned is Asher’s younger brother, Wyatt, Wyatt holds his hands in the air before heading for the closest exit. “I can’t say shit if I have no clue what the fuck you’re planning.”
Ghost waits for the door he walked through to stop swinging before he shifts his focus to Kliment and Yev. “If you want to—”
“Fuck, no,” Yev interrupts, preempting he is giving them an out. “Besides, I can’t leave all this on my little brother’s shoulders. He might only be eleven months younger than me, but what kinda big brother would I be if I were to walk away after asking for his help?”
Ghost is lost by his ramblings, but he takes his first two words as an allegiance to our cause. “What about you, Klim?”
If he wasn’t already over the line, Ghost’s shortening of his name pulled him over. Ghost rarely gifts nicknames. That’s why I knew Katie was under his skin the instant he called her Little Lamb. “I can’t shoot for shit, but I’ll find ways into networks you would have never thought about without me.”
Yev slaps him on the back, an obvious sign he’s now one of the elite. “I’ll teach you how to fight so well, you won’t need to fire a gun.”
When Ghost’s eyes meet with mine, I notice how pained they are, but there’s a determined gleam in them I’ve seen more times than I deserve. The two most notable times were when he saved my life by placing his in the firing zone, and the third was when he arrived at my apartment with a coffin small enough to fit into his palm.
He knows what needs to be done.
We just need to implement it without placing Anastasia and Katie at any unnecessary risk.
34
ANASTASIA
As the women trapped in the orlop with me rummage through the scraps of food dumped through the slot in the door you’d expect to find in a prison, I place a shaky hand down the front of my panties and trickle my fingers over the opening of my vagina.
Although the damp feeling I’ve been experiencing the past two hours could be sweat—it is extremely humid when you have several bodies in one place—but I’m terrified it isn’t.
I’ve been cramping bad since I was punched, and it is becoming too painful to pretend it is part of the grieving process. I’m dreading telling Yev his brother was killed protecting me. Their bond is thicker than blood. They’re best friends.
I yank my fingers out when Katie returns to my side. She was shoved into the orlop with the rest of us a couple of days ago. I think three, but don’t quote me. One day is merging into the next.
Things weren’t even awkward between us for two seconds when our eyes locked across the damp space. She was as deep into her grief cycle as me, so we more comforted each other before slowly merging to bigger things like how I wasn’t Ghost’s fiancé. That it was all a front while he was endeavoring to get her out.
My confession seemed to worsen her grief, so I shifted my focus to getting her to acknowledge the bump a handful of other women have in the orlop. If she can put her child first, perhaps she will eat a little more. She’s fading away before my eyes.
Katie must have realized I’m not feeling the best because today she offered to collect my share of the food. It looks like she forayed through the scraps well. Her hands are full.
“Vera must have cooked extra today. There are quite a few good things in the stack if you’re willing to dig.” She sits down next to me before handing me two bread rolls, a barely touched apple and a carrot stick—the entirety of her scavenge. “I wasn’t sure about your stomach, but I doubt you want to eat ragu off the floor.” She stops, breathes out harshly, then dumps the food into my lap. “What is that?” She grabs my hand then stares down at the red blotches coating the tips of my pointer and middle finger. “Is that blood?”