Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 79265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79265 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 396(@200wpm)___ 317(@250wpm)___ 264(@300wpm)
Read Online Books/Novels: | The Bratva's Baby (Wicked Doms #1) |
|---|---|
Author/Writer of Book/Novel: | Jane Henry |
| Language: | English |
| Book Information: | |
My orders are simple. Capture her. Marry her. Take her inheritance. Get rid of her. The bookish little recluse is worth more than she knows. She’s an unassuming librarian. I’m the brigadier of the Russian Bratva. She has no friends. I command a small army. She’s a modest virgin. And now she’s mine. | |
| Books in Series: | Wicked Doms Series by Jane Henry |
| Books by Author: | Jane Henry Books |
Chapter One
Kazimir
The wrought iron park bench I sit on is ice cold, but I hardly feel it. I’m too intent on waiting for the girl to arrive. The Americans think this weather is freezing, but I grew up in the bitter cold of northern Russia. The cold doesn’t touch me. The ill-prepared people around me pull their coats tighter around their bodies and tighten their scarves around their necks. For a minute, I wonder if they’re shielding themselves from me, and not the icy wind.
If they knew what I’ve done… what I’m capable of… what I’m planning to do… they’d do more than cover their necks with scarves.
I scowl into the wind. I hate cowardice.
But this girl… this girl I’ve been commissioned to take as mine. Despite outward appearances, she’s no coward. And that intrigues me.
Sadie Ann Warren. Twenty-one years old. Fine brown hair, plain and mousy but fetching in the way it hangs in haphazard waves around her round face. Light brown eyes, pink cheeks, and full lips.
I wonder what she looks like when she cries. When she smiles. I’ve never seen her smile.
She’s five-foot-one and curvy, though you wouldn’t know it from the way she dresses in thick, bulky, black and gray muted clothing. I know her dress size, her shoe size, her bra size, and I’ve already ordered the type of clothing she’ll wear for me. I smile to myself, and a woman passing by catches the smile. It must look predatory, for her step quickens.
Sadie’s nondescript appearance makes her easily meld into the masses as a nobody, which is perhaps exactly what she wants.
She has no friends. No relatives. And she has no idea that she’s worth millions.
Her boss, the ancient and somewhat senile head librarian of the small-town library where she works won’t even realize she hasn’t shown up for work for several days. My men will make sure her boss is well distracted yet unharmed. Sadie’s abduction, unlike the ones I’ve orchestrated in the past, will be an easy one. If trouble arises eventually, we’ll fake her death.
It’s almost as if it was meant to be. No one will know she’s gone. No one will miss her. She’s the perfect target.
I sip my bitter, steaming black coffee and watch as she makes her way up to the entrance of the library. It’s eight-thirty a.m. precisely, as it is every other day she goes to work. She arrives half an hour early, prepares for the day, then opens the doors at nine. Sadie is predictable and routinized, and I like that. The trademark of a woman who responds well to structure and expectations. She’ll easily conform to my standards… eventually.
To my left, a small cluster of girls giggles but quiets when they draw closer to me. They’re college-aged, or so. I normally like women much younger than I am. They’re more easily influenced, less jaded to the ways of men. These women, though, are barely women. Compared to Sadie’s maturity, they’re barely more than girls. I look away, but can feel their eyes taking me in, as if they think I’m stupid enough to not know they’re staring. I’m wearing a tan work jacket, worn jeans, and boots, the ones I let stay scuffed and marked as if I’m a construction worker taking a break. With my large stature, I attract attention of the female variety wherever I go. It’s better I look like a worker, an easy role to assume. No one would ever suspect what my real work entails.
The girls pass me and it grates on my nerves how they resume their giggling. Brats. Their fathers shouldn’t let them out of the house dressed the way they are, especially with the likes of me and my brothers prowling the streets. It’s freezing cold and yet they’re dressed in thin skirts, their legs bare, open jackets revealing cleavage and tight little nipples showing straight through the thin fabric of their slutty tops. My palm itches to spank some sense into their little asses. I flex my hand.
It’s been way, way too long since I’ve had a woman to punish.
Control.
Master.
These girls are too young and silly for a man like me.
Sadie is perfect.
My cock hardens with anticipation, and I shift on my seat.
I know everything about her. She pays her meager bills on time, and despite her paltry wage, contributes to the local food pantry with items bought with coupons she clips and sale items she purchases. Money will never be a concern for her again, but I like that she’s fastidious. She reads books during every free moment of time she has, some non-fiction, but most historical romance books. That amuses me about her. She dresses like an amateur nun, but her heroines dress in swaths of silk and jewels. She carries a hard-covered book with her in the bag she holds by her side, and guards it with her life. During her break time, before bed, and when she first wakes up in the morning, she writes in it. I don’t know yet what she writes, but I will. She does something with needles and yarn, knitting or something. I enjoy watching her weave fabric with the vibrant threads.